Love Bites
by Dave
Summary: Just when Entreri begins to get used to his new life, a vampire comes to Garrilport to create his power base, forcing Entreri to join the fight. Another "Art of Being Entreri" sequel.
1. Intro

I am back from my short holiday, though I'm sure many of you will think it was not so short. I've had a few inquiries as to whether or not I still draw breath, or if I ever have any intention of ever writing again. I do. I can't ever see myself stopping. If you want a reason for my absence: I moved in January, started a new job in March, bought a house in May, got married in June, and recently got back from my honeymoon.  
I am going to pace myself with this story. I'm not going to make any promises or claims as to how fast I will write, but I'll try to stay away from my old pitfalls where I write a ton in the first week, and then nothing for a month, then a little bit, then nothing for two months, and then a ton at the end. It's not good for the reader, and it's not good for me. I toyed with the idea of finishing each story completely before posting it, but I enjoy getting feedback as I write.  
Now, onto more important things, like the story. This is an Entreri story, as I'm sure I will have the short description say when I write it in a few minutes. If you haven't read The Art of Being Entreri, or any of its sequels, you will be a little lost when you start this story. If you want to back track, click on my author name (Dave) in the upper left of this page and find my other stories. If you don't want to back track and want to read this story anyway because it has a catchy title, allow me to spoil my previous stories (not really). This series (which I am calling "The Assassin's Credo" by the way – applications for logo art are being accepted) takes place after "The Silent Blade." Entreri is sick of Jarlaxle and the Dark Elves. He is 40 years old and wants to start a new life. He goes to a distant continent (across the ocean) where the land is much tamer and his skills not as necessary – or so he thinks. Though he no longer goes looking for trouble, it looks for him. You can figure out the rest.  
This story is about Vampires. If you've looked at all the stories I've written, you will notice that I am a Buffy/Angel fan. Most, if not all of my vampire information comes form that world. As far as I know, it is pretty accurate. What Buffy doesn't touch on much, though, is the sexual undertones (and overtones) that are more prevalent in classical vampire literature. I plan to use that.  
So, now, onto a rating clarification. I am making this PG-13. I do not intend to have any graphical sex in this story. Frankly, I don't know how it is possible. I mean Vampires don't have a pulse. For my younger readers who don't understand why that should have any impact, let's just say all the Viagra in the world won't help them. You can ask your parents about the rest of the details. Having said that, I believe that this story will have the most sexual tension of any of my stories. I don't believe it is enough to make it an R rating, but I'm not finished with the story either. If I feel the rating needs to change, I will change it. But so far everything I've written could be shown on TV.  
One final note. This is an Entreri story. He is the main character. He will be in the majority of the story. But not right away. The problem with writing a series like this is that I want to make the villains rich and deep and interesting, but they also die at the end of each story, so I have to spend more and more time developing new ones at the beginning of each successive story. Entreri does not play a huge role in the first few chapters of this story, but he is there, and he will take over. If you've read my previous stories and liked them, please have patience with me now.  
  
Thank you. 


	2. The Awakening

**Chapter 1**  
"The Awakening"  
  
"Are you sure we are digging deep enough?"  
  
The mud was wet and black. It had the consistency of soft clay filled with fist-sized rocks. Water was everywhere, running down the sides of the tunnel and dripping from the ceiling, forming pools on the ground.  
  
Fredrick adjusted the grip on his pickaxe and gave a curious glance to his digging partner. "This is how deep we were told to go, so this is how deep we go. We are over halfway across. Now is not the time to rethink this thing."  
  
Craig shrugged his shoulders in return. "Yea, I know, but what if this thing caves in on us. We can't be more than 10 feet under the bottom of the river."  
  
Fredrick shook his head as he swung his axe. "No. The engineers said we are at least 20 feet below the bed of the Garril River." His axe sunk deep into the soft mud, and he pulled a large section out of the wall in front of them. "But if you don't feel safe, you're more than welcome to leave, and I'll take your pay. It will take me twice as long, but that just means I'll get paid longer."  
  
"I don't think so," Craig replied swinging his axe and taking out an equally large chunk of mud from the wall.  
  
The two men were part of a team that worked around the clock digging the tunnel under the Garril River. The city of Garrilport had grown beyond the initial plans of the city's founder, and they were running into a serious space problem. The ships running up and down the river were the source of the city's great wealth, but also the cause of its growing pains. Without a proper dock system to load and unload the ships, the shore was one big traffic jam with cargo and pedestrians constantly jockeying for the right of way.  
  
The residents on the coast didn't want to give up their palatial homes to make room for a dock, and the city didn't want to have to build a bridge over the river to other side. While the other side of the river was undeveloped and ripe for construction, no one knew how to build the bridge. Such an undertaking would have truly been an engineering feat, for it would have had to allow the massive ships to pass under it. So they decided to tunnel under the river.  
  
The shipping company had presented the city a hefty sum of money to solve the problem, and now most of that sum was being divided among six men, working three 8-hour shifts around the clock. It was dirty work, but the pay was worth it.  
  
Fredrick and Craig had filled their wheelbarrows. They swung their pickaxes over their shoulders, and started to walk the mud back up the tunnel. The river was just under 300 feet wide, and the tunnel was to be 500 feet, to give it the proper slope up and down. Every two wheelbarrows full of mud they took away from the tunnel added about half a foot to the length of the tunnel. The engineers had told them that to dig the whole length of tunnel from one end would mean that each of the workers would have to walk a little over 63 miles in total. They had thought about digging from the other end as well, but weren't confident they could make the two tunnels meet in the middle. Plus there was the problem of getting digging equipment across the river to start digging from the other side. One engineer thought it would be easier to get the equipment across if they built a bridge over the river. He was soundly beaten.  
  
Fredrick and Craig didn't mind the walk. The tunnel was lit with torches stuck into the wet mud every twenty feet or so. The idea was that after the tunnel was built, they would be able to torch the whole thing with oil, turning the tunnel into a big kiln, and the clay in the mud would seal up the tunnel long enough for them to seal it off properly with would, stone, and brick.  
  
As the workers passed the torches, they could see the clay starting to harden above each flickering flame and it gave them added confidence that this operation would be successful.  
  
They exited the tunnel into the dead of night and dumped the mud onto the designated piles. The city didn't know what they were going to do with all the mud, but enough people had inquired about it for sealing cracks in their homes, that the city was now sifting the rocks out, and selling it as mortar. Instead of costing the city money, in the end, the tunnel project would probably make the city a hefty profit.  
  
As the two men walked back, Fredrick stopped about halfway in. "So how far up do you think her house is?" he asked, staring up at the tunnel ceiling.  
  
Craig sighed and stopped too. "Would you forget about her for one night. She doesn't even know you exist."  
  
"Oh she knows I exist," Fredrick argued.  
  
"Not in the way you want her to, and you know her father would never let her see a middle-class worker like us. I'm afraid your forays into her store will have to be the extent of your relationship."  
  
Craig started down the tunnel again but Fredrick was still staring at the ceiling. "I bet if I snuck into her bedroom at night she would notice me. I wonder what kind of nightgown she wears?"  
  
"I hear she doesn't wear one," Craig threw over his shoulder. He stopped soon after he had said it, realizing it probably didn't help the situation. Sure enough, Fredrick was staring even more earnestly at the ceiling.  
  
"Really? She sleeps without any-"  
  
"Fred!" Craig pulled him away from his fantasies. "Could we get back to work now?" He motioned back down the tunnel with his head.  
  
Fred slumped his shoulders and trod after his friend. The tunnel did indeed pass under some of the large homes that rested on the shore of the Garrril River, none larger than that of Thurston Toole.  
  
Once the two men returned to the end of the tunnel, they resumed their attack on the muddy wall. At least for a little while.  
  
"But wouldn't it be cool if we 'accidentally' tunneled into her basement. She would come running down stairs in a little nightie with a candle to see what was wrong. We could say, 'Sorry for the intrusion Miss Toole, but we are kind of muddy and wouldn't mind if we could use your night gown to clean up a bit.'"  
  
"What is wrong with you?" Craig asked, stopping his assault on the mud wall for a moment. "Is your mind capable of thinking about anything other than girls? Besides if we were to come crashing through Thurston Toole's basement wall, I don't think he would send his daughter down to investigate. He'd send his servants armed with crossbows, and as soon as they saw two muddy men with pickaxes lurking in the cellar, we would be turned into pincushions faster than you could say, 'Is Christine home?'"  
  
"Maybe," Fredrick conceded, "But then, in my dying breaths, she could run up to me to profess her love. 'Oh, Fredrick, I've never been able to tell you how I felt, and now I have to say it before you pass from this earth. I've never-"  
  
"Would you stop it?!" Craig screamed, turning toward his partner with his pickaxe poised for a strike. "It's not going to happen, so just drop it. The only times she's seen you is when you visit her store. What is a woman supposed to think of a guy who visits a fabric store on a daily basis?  
  
"And there is as much a chance of us 'accidentally' tunneling into there, or anyone's, house as there is of this river caving in on us." Craig saw the sudden fear return to Fred's eyes. "Which isn't going to happen. We are going to stay in this tunnel. We are going to dig. And nothing else is going to happen. We aren't going to crash into anything, and nothing is going to crash down on-"  
  
Instinct saved them.  
  
A tremendous slurping sound came from above, like a boot being pulled out of the mud. Both men jumped back as a huge object dropped from the ceiling and splashed into the mud where they had both been standing. As they scrambled back, they each slipped, and as quickly as it had happened, it was over.  
  
Fredrick and Craig exchanged looks. They were each covered with splattered mud and water, their pickaxes tossed behind them. "You were saying?" Fred asked, but they didn't contemplate the irony of the situation too long. Their attention turned to the object that had nearly killed them. And seeing it clearly now, it was quite evident that if they hadn't moved when they did, they would both be dead.  
  
The object in question was a huge stone slab. It was seven feet wide, two feet tall, and three feet deep. Its exact height couldn't be determined, for it had sunk firmly into the mud floor. It was not a natural piece of rock. Its shape was definitely chiseled into it, and in the flickering torch light underneath the streaming mud, both men thought they could see engravings in the side of the slab. What frightened the men most was the objects eerie resemblance to a coffin.  
  
They picked themselves up and walked over to it. As they examined it closely, running their hands over its surprisingly smooth surface a bunch of questions should have popped into their minds: What is it? Where did it come from? How did it get here? Who made it? Instead, there was only one burning desire on both of their minds.  
  
"How do we get it open?" Craig asked.  
  
Some how they both new it was hollow, and they were each filled with the unnatural yearning to see what was inside. Any fear that might be associated with such an object was gone and instead was just one insistent desire: Open!  
  
Later, when Craig would have to explain his actions to John Irenum, the captain of the city guards, he wouldn't be able to adequately describe why they had been so eager to open it. Only that it had seemed the right thing to do. Fredrick, on the other hand, would know exactly why they had felt the need to open it, but he wouldn't be telling anyone.  
  
Right now, though, the reason behind the feeling wasn't even considered. They just needed to open it. Now!  
  
"The blasted thing doesn't have any seams," Craig said, getting frustrated. He stepped back a few feet to retrieve his pickaxe and was about to bash the slab when Fredrick stopped him.  
  
"Wait!" he cried, feeling the side of the box with his hands. "I think there is a crack here."  
  
Sure enough, they both bent down and after a few moments of cleaning, they could see a crack across the length of the object, showing the box had a lid. It was too narrow a crack for their fingers, but Craig quickly slipped the tip of his pickaxe in and began to heave. Fredrick joined him, but they couldn't budge it. They pulled till they thought the wooden handles might snap.  
  
"It's not moving!" Craig stated the obvious in frustration.  
  
Fredrick gave a closer inspection. He reached over the slab to the back and stopped as his hand found something. "There seems to be a latch of sorts back here." The back of the box wasn't visible, and apart from climbing over the huge object, there wasn't room to walk around it. Fredrick could feel a round dial and he gave it a turn.  
  
The reaction was instantaneous. The box gasped, blasting a jet of air out through the crack, spraying out all the mud that had kept the definition between the lid and the box hidden. In fact, all the mud and water shed off the box like ice off a tar roof on a sunny spring day.  
  
Seconds later the pair was staring at an immaculate concrete box with intricate engravings. It seemed to be glowing with an inner light, but they couldn't tell if that was just the effect the torches had on the box now that it was clean.  
  
The gasp of air had lifted the lid enough so they could get their fingers in the crack, and they rushed forward. Though the box was no longer locked, the stone lid was still too heavy to lift without help. After a few moments of straining, they were back to their pickaxes. The lid lifted relatively easy, and they flipped it over the backside of the box.  
  
They looked into the box.  
  
They had both seen dead bodies before, and while they had never exhumed a corpse, they could imagine what one would look like after time. Within a year the body should be well into decay. Unconsciously they had both realized before they had peered inside that they were about to look at something that hadn't been seen in centuries, if not longer. The city of Garrilport was over a century old, and the unreadable markings on the side of the box indicated that whoever had put this here predated this city.  
  
The idea that the contents of the box would be human had obviously crossed their minds, with the coffin shape and all, but if that were to be the case, then they expected scarcely more than bones. What they got was an elegant looking man in the peak of his youth. He had long wavy hair that lay bunched above his shoulders, probably hanging just past if he stood up. He had smooth, very pale skin and a muscular build that was clearly visible under an unbuttoned shirt and open vest. If it weren't for the fact that the two diggers knew this man had been here for hundreds of years at least, they would have assumed he was barely 30 years old. They didn't see his age until he opened his eyes.  
  
Alececarr was awake!  
  
Fredrick and Craig stood transfixed. They were hypnotized in both fear and wonder. Though Fredrick had quite obviously professed his appreciation of the female form, neither man now could think of anything more beautiful yet terrifying than what looked them in the eye right now.  
  
Alececarr smiled at their rapture yet could already feel his strength fading away. He had been kept in stasis for longer than he knew, but now that he was awake, the fact that he had not fed in ages was quickly catching up to him. His arm shot up and latched onto Fredrick's neck.  
  
The spell was broken. Both mean screamed, and while Craig raced out of the tunnel without so much as a glance back, Fredrick was hauled down as Alececarr sat up. The vampire bit down hard on his breakfast, the etymology of the word becoming very real. He drank long and hard, letting go just before the life left his prey but long after strength had been restored to him.  
  
Alececarr stood, still holding Fredrick's limp form and looked down the tunnel after his lost prey. He could smell dawn approaching and knew this would be all the food he would have for now. This was also his only potential ally and emissary should reinforcements come.  
  
Alececarr quickly traced a sharp fingernail over his own wrist and brought Fredrick's head down for a drink. "Drink my friend."  
  
As the demon's blood touched Fredrick's tongue, a spark went through the nearly lifeless man and he sucked at the wrist eagerly. "Yes, drink. Renew your life unto eternity."  
  
Fredrick drank.

* * *

James had drank too much.  
  
The big man was sitting in The Dragon's Lair, the nicest restaurant in the northern region of Garrilport. One could argue that The Dragon's Lair was the nicest restaurant in the northern half of Garrilport by default, being as how it was really the only restaurant in the northern half of Garrilport. There were places where you could buy food and drink, there were plenty of those, but they were taverns at best, nary a tablecloth to be found.  
  
In The Dragon's Lair there were table clothes and wine glasses and hor d' oeuvres and an assortment of spoons and forks that the patrons didn't know how to use in the right order, to say nothing about even holding them properly. The menu boasted a wide array of exotic dishes prepared by the best chefs, but the main movers were steak, stew, and beer.  
  
James had drunk a lot of beer. He worked at Borgian's Construction, though Borgain no longer owned the shipyard. In fact, Borgain was dead, but the new owner had kept the name to avoid confusion. James couldn't remember the name of the new owner, his boss, right now but that could be blamed on a lot of things, such as the fact that he had drank enough alcohol to anesthetize a large ox, or the fact that he had about the same IQ of said ox, or the fact that his friend across the table had just ordered a bottle of wine.  
  
"Gene, you're a sissy."  
  
Gene hadn't had nearly as much to drink as his partner and was interested in trying the finer points of the restaurant. "What did you say?"  
  
"I said you're a sissy. Wine is for arristocarratos and politutions." James should have stuck to the one- and two-syllable words. "Are you trying to get all sophisticarded now? You too good for beer all-a- sudden?"  
  
"You're an idiot," was all Gene had to say as he reached for the bottle of wine. James grabbed it first and wielded it like a club. "Not going to drink this."  
  
"Jim, you're being a stooge, now hand it over."  
  
James stood with his back up against the wall and raised the bottle over his head, "Okay, you asked for it."  
  
James was a very big man (see above ox), and Gene cowered under the potential blow. It never came. After the moment of expectation had passed, Gene peered out from behind his raised arm to see that James was frozen in place. His arm was raised above his head, and it looked like he was trying to swing it down, but he couldn't.  
  
Gene looked closer and saw the hilt of a heavy steak knife next to his raised wrist, the blade pinning James' sleeve to the wall. It took James considerably longer to figure out what the problem was, but finally reached over with his left hand and pulled the knife free. Now he had a more formidable weapon, and as some memory inside his thick head triggered that he was supposed to be attacking someone, he raised his left hand up to strike.  
  
Gene only half raised his arms in defense this time, expecting the second knife as it came flipping in, accurately pinning James' left arm to the wall. He was a bit quicker this time in figuring out what was wrong, but as his right hand reached over to pull the second knife free, he wasn't smart enough (ox) to let go of the wine bottle first. His bludgeoning and fumbling attempts to remove the second knife with the wine bottle only succeeded in pounding the blade further into the wall.  
  
James was about to toss the bottle aside when a voice stopped him. "Don't do that."  
  
James looked up to regard the speaker and as color drained from his head, a name returned: Artemis Entreri. Entreri was James' boss. He owned this restaurant. He did not look happy. "Do not drop that bottle. It is worth more than you make in a week."  
  
James acted out of panic and not reason, which is hardly surprising (again: ox). As Entreri stepped up to the man, he swung down from his right with the wine bottle. Entreri blocked with his right arm coming up across his body. He struck the attacking wrist, numbing it and sending the wine bottle spinning across his field of vision.  
  
Entreri's left arm snaked around his back, catching the bottle just off his right hip and then swinging back around and placing the bottle back on the table from where it came. Meanwhile, his right hand, having finished its block disappeared into his vest, pulled his jeweled dagger, and tossed it back across his body to his left hand, which had just replaced the bottle. Entreri caught the blade with his left hand, which was still hovering over the table, and stabbed down to pick up a piece of meat that had fallen from James' plate. The employer then brought the piece of meat right in front of James' face.  
  
The whole routine looked like a juggling act with bottles and knives, and James was left dizzy following it until it all stopped and there was a piece of meat on a deadly looking dagger inches from his face. The smell of the meat calmed him while the presence of the dagger frightened him.  
  
"This meat is as good a piece of beef as you will find in the entire city," Entreri started in a hushed tone. "Because you are my employee, I provide it to you at a fraction of its normal price. Though you choose to live and act like a slob, I give you the opportunity to eat like a prince. This is how you thank me. You toss your food around your table, you threaten my other employees, and you try to destroy valuable objects. You need to learn to respect what I give you."  
  
Entreri looked the big man in the eye. "Eat this."  
  
James' was shocked and stunned. "What?"  
  
Entreri did not repeat himself, instead, when James' mouth opened to speak, Entreri put the meat, dagger included, in the big man's mouth. James couldn't close his mouth on the meat without cutting his mouth on the dagger and found he had to open wider as Entreri slowly continued to push the blade in further.  
  
Suddenly James froze. He felt what he first thought was meat juice running down his throat, but the small prick at the back of his mouth told him it was his own juice. His knees went week and his posture slackened as the magical dagger did its work.  
  
"Close your mouth." James complied immediately. Entreri slowly pulled the dagger out between a slackened jaw, leaving the meat inside and drawing two thin lines of blood on either side of the mouth. "Chew," Entreri instructed, "swallow." James obeyed.  
  
Entreri motioned to a passing waiter carrying a tray of drinks and plucked a wine glass free. "Drink this." James took the glass with his right hand (his lefts was still pinned to the wall) before Entreri decided to feed him again. He drank the wine down, wincing as the alcohol burned his wounds.  
  
Entreri pulled the second knife from the wall and took the first from James' left hand. "Now leave and don't come back. You're fired."  
  
As James raced out of the restaurant, Entreri turned back to the table, uncorked the bottle of wine, poured Gene a glass, and smiled at him. "Enjoy your meal."  
  
Entreri put the bottle back down and moved to return to his spot at the end of the bar. This was his restaurant, and he liked it immensely. If someone had told him ten years ago that he would be doing this, he would have laughed at them. But the challenge of providing a detailed menu and a plush environment while at the same time having to deal with patrons like James kept Entreri busy.  
  
A waiter stopped him before he got back to the bar. "Sir, someone would like to speak with you."  
  
"I'm not hiring right now," Entreri said without looking at the young man. Everyone in the northern section of town wanted to work for him. He paid the most, offered the most benefits, and with his business growing faster than ever before, spots were always opening.  
  
"I don't think he is looking for a job," the waiter responded.  
  
Entreri stopped and turned. The young man nodded off to the front of the restaurant. Between a few potted plants Entreri could see a wealthy older gentleman sitting at a table with two brutes. The two men could have easily passed for northerners with their bulk and stern faces, but they were dressed in nice clothes and had manners no one north of the guardhouse possessed. Entreri nodded curiously, "I'll speak with him."  
  
The older gentleman stood as Entreri walked up to the table. "It is good to finally meet you," he extended his hand across the table. His bodyguards were sitting on either side of him at the small square table, leaving the seat across from the standing man open. Despite his years away from Calimport, Entreri still saw traps everywhere. If this man had meant him harm, as soon as Entreri took the handshake, both of the big men would leap up to attack him. With Entreri locked in a handshake, his right hand far from his weapons, he would be very vulnerable. There was no trap here (at least not one that Entreri would see for a few days yet), and the former assassin took the handshake.  
  
"My name is Thurston Toole, please have a seat."  
  
Entreri felt a little awkward being invited to a table he already owned, but he took the seat anyway. The two brutes regarded him with stone looks. They had undoubtedly seen what he had done to James, and they probably took it as an insult to their muscle. Entreri had beaten and humiliated the much bigger man with skill and intimidation. Both men felt that if they had been in James' situation, they would have been able to stand up to Entreri better. The killer chuckled to himself. They had no idea.  
  
"I am member of the merchants' council, and we were all wondering when you planned on joining us," Thurston started out. "Surely you have made a good name for yourself up here. You would be a welcomed addition to the council. We can always use more men of your savvy. Our city is expanding and will experience growing pains soon. We could use more men like you. You obviously know how to handle yourself in difficult situations."  
  
It was flattery that had little effect on Entreri. Unless he was wrong (he wasn't) he was not making much of a name for himself at all. Because he had kept the name of his shipyard as it had been, there were many people who thought Borgain still owned it. And those who knew he had died hadn't bothered to venture north to find out who had taken over. It was not safe for southerners to come up north, hence Thurston's bodyguards.  
  
No, instead of flushing with pride at the man's praise, Entreri continued to look for the trap. "Thank you," he said to play along for now.  
  
"I especially like the way you handled your unruly employee a moment ago. But answer me this, why did you fire him? Surely he was not going to act up again after what you put him through."  
  
Entreri could see this man was feeling him out, trying to figure out how he thought and did business. He obliged the wealthy southerner. "Your two bodyguards are itching to have a crack at me," Entreri said rather bluntly, startling the three other men at the table. Thurston looked at his two escorts, and while they tried to hide it, the older man could see Entreri was right. "Others in the north wish the same. I need to flex 'muscle' in order to maintain discipline, but doing so invites further attack. If my employees knew they could challenge me without repercussion they would no doubt do so more often. If they think they will lose their jobs, that will give them pause. I do not doubt that the man I just fired will come back to me in a few days, pleading for his job back, and I will probably give it to him, because, as you said, he will likely now be my hardest worker."  
  
Thurston nodded, accepting the answer. He had more questions. "You picked an interesting name for your restaurant."  
  
It wasn't really a question, but Entreri didn't press his new friend to make it one. "Only the lucky ones get their wealth from a dragon's lair. The rest of us have to work for it."  
  
Thurston chuckled, though he couldn't possibly understand all the irony in the statement. Entreri did get all his wealth from a dragon's lair. An ivory cylinder that he carried with him wherever he went, fashioned from the tooth of the dead dragon, opened a portal to its treasure cave. This Dragon's Lair – the restaurant – actually lost him money, for now. He offered food to his employees at such a discounted rate, that he could not make money. He only got visitors from the south once or twice a week. They paid full price. Entreri was not doing this to make money though; he was doing it for a new challenge.  
  
"I've also noticed that you have no female servers here. That is quite uncommon, especially here in the north."  
  
"If my men wish to seek female companionship, they can do that on their own time. I am trying to provide them with food, not sex."  
  
"Oh," Thurston said, a little taken aback. "So you don't approve of women?"  
  
Entreri thought it an odd question. "Where I used to live, I've seen way too many people take down their guard around women. They become vulnerable and often agitated. I want my workers to be stable. If they choose to marry or find companionship, that is their own prerogative."  
  
"Oh," Thurston said again.  
  
Entreri didn't know what he was doing wrong, but his answers seemed to have a negative effect on this man. If he wished to invite Entreri to join the merchants' council, he didn't see how his view of women should affect that decision. Still, it seemed to. Entreri wasn't sure what he wanted, but he knew that he didn't want to shut any doors. This was an opportunity to be drawn into the inner workings of the business world of Garrilport, and it was a hobby he was taking interest in. This new business was not so different than his old line of work. The battles were fought with wit and savvy instead of swords and arrows, but the combatants were no less fierce.  
  
Entreri did not want this opportunity to slip away, so he lied. "Personally, I am still waiting for the right woman to come along. I am not one to fall for the first bar maid who bats her eyes at me, and I would like to assume that the men who work for me are the same. I prefer something more stable."  
  
This was apparently exactly what Thurston wanted to hear, and his face brightened considerably. "Good. That is sound thinking. I'd like to invite you to a gathering I am having at my home this weekend. I live in a large blue house, four blocks south of Main Street, right near where they are tunneling under the river. Ask anyone if you can't find it.  
  
"There are many new businessmen like yourself. Always before, a relatively small council that could not always adequately represent all of their constituents made the merchant laws. We would like to change that. There will still be a council, but we want to increase it and create a forum for every businessman in this city to voice his ideas and concerns. I do hope you will come."  
  
Entreri smiled a fake smile. "I would be delighted." The galas and parties he could do without, but then there had also been formal functions he had been required to attend when he had worked for Basadoni's guild that he had not enjoyed. Entreri had never really run Calimport, but he could make it stop. He understood the inner workings and had the power to influence those workings to serve him best. That is what he wanted now. He was still capable of beating anyone in the city in combat, but he was not so naïve to realize that would not always be the case. He needed something else to fall back on. The business world was going to be it. He wanted to understand its inner workings. If that meant he had to attend a party or two, he would do so.  
  
Thurston gave him the time of the gathering and better directions. He then asked for a recommendation off the menu, and Entreri told him the most expensive dish without hesitation. With a curt nod to the bodyguards, Entreri stood and took his leave of the table.

* * *

John Irenum stood impatiently as the four men worked in front of him. The captain of the city guards did not want to be there. He had much better things to do at night than stand around in a muddy torch-lit tunnel watching people dig, namely: sleep. This was not his job. As much as the mayor (and his daughter now that Ellen was a member of the city council) tried to drag him into more and more of the city's affairs, he tried his best to keep his jurisdiction to that of the city guard.  
  
They were digging a tunnel under the river to build docks for the ships. That was great. It would bring a lot more money into the city. Yes, John had been at the meeting in which this course of action was decided, and he had been credited with the idea, but he wanted no part of it.  
  
However, tonight it was a little different. Craig Childress had come to the city guard last night screaming that he had seen a monster. After they had calmed him down he had told his story. They had been digging in the tunnel when a coffin had crashed down on them. They opened it and the man/monster inside attacked Fredrick Hollis, his digging partner. Craig said he ran without looking back. When the city guards went to check it out, the tunnel was collapsed only a few dozen feet into the tunnel.  
  
They had spent the entire day digging out the blockage and were now a few minutes from reopening the tunnel. The reason John was there was because Fredrick was nowhere to be found. If he was dead inside the tunnel, then a murder investigation would take place, and unless there was evidence to support Craig's wild story, he would be the prime subject.  
  
"I think we are through," came the cry from ahead.  
  
John looked at the pile in front of him and saw that the men had indeed poked a hole in the dirt wall. After a few moments, they had opened it more and motioned to John. While none of them believed what Craig had reported, they weren't exactly eager to go in first either. John frowned at them. "You and you," he instructed pointing at two of the men, "follow me with torches." They nodded grimly.  
  
John stepped through the hole with his sword drawn and waited for the light to follow him. The torches on the wall had gone out with the airflow blocked by the cave-in. If Fredrick had been left inside, he would have found it very stuffy. As they passed each torch in the wall, the men behind relit them.  
  
The shadows increased with the multiple light sources behind them, and John gripped his sword tighter. Normally he would have discounted such a crazy story from Craig. It had been late and they had been working hard in the dark in the stuffy tunnel. Craig had said the coffin came crashing down on them. It could have been the cave in and then the shadows and Craig's imagination did the rest. Still . . .  
  
A lot of weird things had been going on lately. There had been the mage, the goblins, and the dark elf. Things hadn't really been the same since . . . since Artemis Entreri had arrived in town. John frowned at the thought, but he couldn't in good conscious really blame the newcomer. If anything, he had been the one to end each of the threats. Still, it was a big coincidence if nothing else. John hoped this situation would not require the assassin's involvement.  
  
As they walked down the tunnel, John took notice of the floor. There were clear wheel marks and footprints all over the place, as would be appropriate for workers hauling wheelbarrows back and forth through the tunnel. As they neared the end, John noticed that the heights of the torches were coming down. All of the torches on the wall were at shoulder height back at the beginning of the tunnel, but now they were slowly coming down to a little above his waist when they got to the end. It was further evidence in John's mind that the workers had gotten tired and lazy, and it was likely that Craig had gotten his details screwed up.  
  
John saw the end of the tunnel up ahead, his own body casting shadows over the evidence. He turned and took a torch from on of the workers following him, and swiftly made his way to the end.  
  
Nothing.  
  
The end of the tunnel was unremarkable. There was no coffin or evidence there had ever been one. There was no rectangular hole in the ceiling that would have shown where a coffin would have come from. But most important, there was no body.  
  
John crouched down, careful not to touch the mud more than he had to. He could see no blood or torn clothing or anything. Craig said they had left their pickaxes and wheelbarrows in the tunnel, which at one point (not in Craig's tale) had been sealed by the cave-in.  
  
If Craig was guilty of something here, John was convinced that he would have come up with a much better story than he had. Craig would have accounted for the missing equipment and body somehow. Still, John thought another round of questioning needed to take place to give him some idea of what could have happened to Fredrick. Other than that, John didn't see anything else he could gain from the tunnel and told them they could continue digging. He would try to get his answers elsewhere.

* * *

Behind the relatively thin dirt wall Fredrick listen as John talked to the workers. His hearing was better than he could have thought possible. The power and energy that rushed through him since his master had made him immortal was intoxicating. No one could defy him now. But with as much power as he felt, he still tried to keep his ambitions in check with regard to the will of his master.  
  
The two vampires had used their day of solitude to create a series of side tunnels and hidden chambers under the edge of the city. They had closed off access from the main tunnel and hid all evidence of their presence.  
  
"They do not know what happened, Master," Fredrick reported. "They believe Craig lied to them."  
  
Alececarr listened to the report. He did not understand the language these humans used. He had no idea where he was. Fredrick had told him, "Garrilport," but that meant nothing to him. He needed Fredrick as an emissary for now. He also needed strength.  
  
"Who is the man in authority?" he responded in his own language, which Fredrick, because of their link, could understand.  
  
"Captain John Irenum," Fredrick replied. "He is smart and persistent, but weak."  
  
"They are all weak," Alececarr agreed, "but they are not to be underestimated. They can attack in great numbers and we are but two. My strength is not as it should be."  
  
"But I feel so strong!" Fredrick almost shouted.  
  
"No," Alececarr reprimanded, and his minion humbly bowed in submission. "I must regain my strength and decide our course of action."  
  
"What do you require?"  
  
"I must feed. I must feed tonight. But we must keep our presence hidden."  
  
Fredrick thought for a moment. "The main tunnel will have men in it at all times of the day. And we must be careful who we kill as to not alert the captain."  
  
"Your city must have a poor section where people will not be missed?"  
  
Fredrick grinned and nodded.  
  
"And you can bring us there by an alternate means?"  
  
Fredrick's grin increased.  
  
"Good. Then tonight we feed."  
  
Fredrick laughed. 


	3. The Prey

**Chapter 2  
**"The Prey"  
  
James stumbled out of a bar into an alleyway, ignoring the strange looks he got from a few vagrants as he vomited into a dumpster. He gasped several times, inhaling what he had just done, and then spun away from it, sitting down hard in the dirt with his back up against a wall.  
  
He was hopeless. His money was almost gone. He had no job. And he was attacking the problem by getting drunk. The northern section of Garrilport could be a cruel place to someone in his position. None of the other factories up north were hiring right now. None of the bars would extend him a line of credit right now. And none of the bar maids had agreed to his lewd proposals right now, or at any time.  
  
He needed to go back to Entreri. It was that thought earlier in the day that had sent him to the bars in the first place. How could he go back to that man? How could he admit that he had been wrong? Entreri was almost a foot shorter, old, and weak. Men like James did not submit to men like that, especially not north of the guardhouse. He wouldn't do it.  
  
But he had to.  
  
It was the only option he had open to him. Entreri had paid good money. His hours were not unfair. James had really enjoyed his work, and the restaurant alone was reason enough to go back. But what would the other men think? He would be scorned and ridiculed. Maybe he should go back to Entreri tomorrow and beat his face in. That would make him feel better. James didn't entertain that thought for too long. He remembered the look in his boss' eyes and didn't want any piece of him. What was he going to do?  
  
James needed a drink.  
  
He began to push himself up with the wall, but his hand slipped and he landed back down hard on his seat. He shouldn't drink anymore tonight (or ever), he knew that, but he had to do something. Maybe he could beat Gene up. That sissy had started it all to begin with. What was he thinking ordering wine? Yes, James could beat him up and then rob him. That would make him feel better and give him more money.  
  
James started to push himself up again, but his hand slipped once more and he winced as he came crashing down. Maybe he needed to wait a while till after he sobered up a bit. Or maybe he needed to pick on someone other than Gene. There were lots of northerners out tonight with coin pouches who were a lot more drunk than he was.  
  
He looked out from the alley to the street, eyeing up the few pedestrians roaming the streets tonight. His gaze froze and his pulse stopped. There were two men. The taller of the two meant little to him. He was strong and lean, but dressed like a commoner. The second man had an indescribable aura around him. He dressed richly in purple and black. His hair was long and wavy and his clothes were stain free. That man was important and had money.  
  
James looked around the alley for a weapon and spotted an old wooden post. He grabbed it and stood successfully, suddenly feeling not so drunk. The men had now walked past his alley and had their backs to him as he approached. He tried to walk quietly, but both men turned when he was still 20 feet behind them.  
  
Fredrick and Alececarr regarded James inquisitively for a moment before the big man charged, his club raised. Fredrick stepped up to protect his master deflecting two quick blows from the club, but then failed in deflecting the bulk of the big man as he charged into him. The two fell to the street, Fredrick's head smacking against a stone, and James sent his elbow into his temple. Fredrick rolled one way and James the other.  
  
The bigger man was the first to stand, and he stopped. Alececarr was standing before him, smiling as if nothing was wrong. He looked incredibly vulnerable standing there, and James wanted to smash him, but something held his attack at bay. Behind him Fredrick got up with vicious intent, but also stopped when he saw that his master had everything under control.  
  
It was his eyes, James decided. They were deep and ancient. They told of pain and suffering, of lost love and emotional heartache. Yet at the same time they spoke of power and might. They were portals to a world that James had never imagined. A world where there was no weakness or feelings of inadequacy. It was a world he wanted to be apart of.  
  
"Please," Alececarr said gently, "put your weapon down." He had been learning some of the language from Fredrick and could speak small sentences.  
  
James did as he was told.  
  
"Follow me. I wish to give you something."  
  
Alececarr turned to walk into the alley, and James followed him. Fredrick watched with amazement. His master was more powerful than he had thought.  
  
When they had left the street and were hidden in the shadows, Alececarr turned back to James. "Please, kneel." James did so. The ancient vampire smiled at him as he put a hand on each shoulder. "You will have no more pain." With that, his face changed suddenly to that of a demon, and like a viper he struck at James' neck. The big man had been lulled to a near comatose state, and it wasn't until the pain in his neck registered in his brain that he knew something was wrong.  
  
He tried to push the vampire away, but Alececarr's hold was far too strong. He didn't have to struggle long though, for only a few moments into the attack, the vampire reeled back, spitting and uttering curses in a strange language. James was shocked. The creature in front of him was spewing his own blood into the air with a demonic look on its face.  
  
He quickly scrambled to his feet and ran deeper into the alley. Fredrick had other ideas. He leaped into the air, flying over James and landing fifteen feet in front of him. James stopped short and Fredrick leaped straight at him, hitting him with two punches before he could put up a defense. James took two stumbling steps back, slipped on a rotted piece of fruit, and cracked his head against the dumpster.  
  
Once more he was on his knees. Once more a vampire bit deep into his neck. This time Fredrick did not let go. He held on, sucking until the last drop was gone. He dropped James in the alley like a sack of potatoes and licked his lips as he looked up at his master.  
  
Alececarr was still spitting blood. "He tastes like a sewer," he said, back in his own language. "What has he been doing?"  
  
"Beer," Fredrick replied, still cleaning off his face.  
  
"It is horrid!"  
  
Fredrick shrugged. "It is not the best brew in Garrilport, but it isn't too bad."  
  
"I am used to the finest elven wine, made from the grapes of the Cloudy Mountain Vineyards and then aged for a thousand years. This is swill."  
  
Needless to say, Fredrick was not familiar with that wine. "This is what everyone up here drinks."  
  
"Then we must find a new place to feed. I cannot become strong drinking urine. Surely not everyone in this city subjects themselves to this vile drink?"  
  
"Those who do not will be missed." Fredrick kicked James' body. "This poor wretch will not be missed."  
  
"What of the women in this city? Do they drink this too?"  
  
Fredrick smiled. "Some do, but others do not."  
  
Ten minutes later the two vampires were sitting in the nicest bar in four blocks. There were tables, the men inside kept it to a dull roar, and food could be served. It was a far cry The Dragon's Lair, but there were serving girls. Most women in the north worked in places like this, and most bars didn't have the luxury to be picky about whom they hired, but this was a relatively nice place. It was owned by two brothers who acted like bouncers. They were big men, and if you lived in the north, wanted a nice drink and some food that tasted reasonably well, this is where you came.  
  
A girl of about 20 came to their table. It was almost midnight, and she had had a rough night so far. Her hair was frazzled, her blouse was stained and partially untucked, and her skirt was on sideways from having been tugged on by so many patrons. She could have been pretty, but it was tough to tell.  
  
"What can I get for you gentleman this evening?" she said in a monotone voice without even looking up.  
  
"A smile," Fredrick responded. The girl looked up. "And your name."  
  
Fredrick didn't have the debonair appearance of his master, but he was beginning to learn how to make his vampiric aura work for him. The girl was flustered, "Uh, Erica," she said, quickly trying to flatten her hair and straighten her clothes. She gave him a smile. She was pretty.  
  
"My friend and I are tired and would like something to eat."  
  
Erica looked over at Alececarr for the first time and lost her breath. The ancient vampire mouthed the word, "Beautiful," to her and smiled from ear to ear. She was getting flushed now and she kept looking around to see if anyone was watching her.  
  
"A, uh, a menu. Would you like a menu? I could get you a menu."  
  
"No," Fredrick said, reaching out and gently holding her hand, "don't leave us."  
  
"But, I, uh, um I,"  
  
"Shhhh," Alececarr said gently. "Too much talk. Sit."  
  
Erica looked at the empty chair between the two men and really wanted to take it. She had had a rough night and would like nothing better than to sit down and talk with these two strange, nice men, but she would get fired. "I have tables," she tried to argue, motioning behind her but not looking. She couldn't tear her eyes away from Alececarr.  
  
"Sit," he said. She did and he put his hand on her bare knee, just below her skirt. A chill went up her thigh. They didn't say anything for a few moments; they just stared into each other's eyes.  
  
A crash of plates from behind startled Erica back into reality. She pushed her chair back. "I have to get back to work."  
  
"Do not leave us," Fredrick pleaded.  
  
"I get off in a few hours," she said, not really knowing why.  
  
"Too long," Alececarr replied, wishing he had a better hold on the language.  
  
Erica looked deep into his eyes. "Ten minutes," she said. "In the back. I can take a break. Be quiet." With that she raced away, going to another table to clear some empty mugs.  
  
Alececarr wasn't sure what she had just said, but Fredrick smiled and stood up. His master followed him out of the front door.  
  
Five minutes later Erica was creeping through the darkened storage room, drying her hands on a towel. What was she doing? She didn't even know these men. What if they were thieves? No, she thought, remembering the look in the quiet one's eyes. They are not thieves; besides, she had no money on her.  
  
A rat scurried behind a keg and she whirled around, the shadows playing tricks on her eyes. She should have brought a light with her; the darkness was giving her chills. Another creak in the floor came behind her and she spun and almost shouted. Alececarr stood silhouetted in the back doorway. The faint light from outside gave him an almost shimmering quality as it gently outlined his frame. Though she could not see his face, she knew it was the older, quieter one. His shoulder length hair and slighter, gentler frame was so easy to recognize it was as if she had known him all her life.  
  
She had identified him as the older one, but she was not sure why. He had a smooth, wrinkle free face, his hair as black as night without a hint of gray. It had been his eyes, though, that told of his age. The eyes that promised no harm would come to her, that she would always be protected. All of her aches and pains, all of the drudgery of everyday life would be taken away from her.  
  
"Come," was all he had to say and she flung herself at him. It felt like she floated the distance between them and that he caught her up in his arms. The embrace was sure and strong, lifting her off her weary feet. Suddenly nothing else in the world mattered. As their lips met, a spark of energy charged through her and she could feel her whole body come alive. A fire burned deep inside her begging to be released.  
  
His lips left hers slowly, working their way across her cheek to her ear. There he nibbled briefly, sending another wave of pleasure through her. She moaned softly as he deliberately and passionately made his way down her neck. Erica burned inside and suddenly felt way too hot. She let out a sigh of satisfaction, therefore, when her new lover ripped open her blouse.  
  
His lips moved swiftly and expertly, her body unconsciously moaning and convulsing. He moved to the base of her neck and out to her shoulders, then back to her collarbone. "Yes, yes, ye-"  
  
She stopped. It was a prick, no, a bite, no . . . Was he . . . Did he . . . But then it didn't matter. The prick faded away. Her whole world began to fade away. Her sore feet, the bruise on her leg, her aching back, it all seemed to disappear. This glorious man was pulling, no, sucking all of her aches and pains away. She felt weightless in his arms, her mind free from the burdens of her body. As her spirit soared and the last thought passed through her mind, she never felt more alive.  
  
Alececarr raised his head from her neck and dropped the dead girl to the ground. "That rivals the finest evlish wine in all existence," he declared as Fredrick entered the storeroom, having watched the whole encounter from the shadows. He hadn't been hungry before, but having just watched his master at work, he craved blood more than he could have thought possible. He glanced down at the bar maid, but knew his master would not have left him a drop.  
  
"Take them at the peak of ecstasy," Alececarr said, "And all of the fleshy desires of your old life will seem to have been meaningless as you feed on pure, intoxicating energy."  
  
"What's going on back here?" another female voice called from the front of the room. A much older woman came out holding a lantern. "What are you two-" she stopped when she saw Erica lying motionless on the floor.  
  
Fredrick leaped toward her, clamping a strong hand over her mouth and hauling her up against the back wall. Terror filled her eyes, as the demonic appearances of her captures were clearly evident in the light from the open door.  
  
"If you continue screaming," Fredrick said, as she was bellowing into his hand, "your death will be a slow and painful one." This didn't exactly make her scream any less, and Fredrick was about to end her, when Alececarr touched him on the shoulder.  
  
"I have some questions for her," he said. "You will translate for me."  
  
Fredrick nodded, listened to his master, and then relayed the question. "Are there any taverns in the northern section of town that serve wine instead of beer?"  
  
The woman looked confused and started to shake her head. Fredrick hadn't thought they would get a positive answer but continued. "We need strong men who aren't drunk. Are there any meeting places where they might be?"  
  
She looked puzzled again and shook her head. Fredrick was about to give up when a light went on in her eyes. Fred slackened his grip on her mouth a little to let her speak. "There is a new place that has opened. I think it is Dragoons or Dragons or something like that. It is supposed to be an upscale place, but no one can afford to go unless you work for the owner. They serve beer, I'm sure, but they are supposed to have wine too."  
  
"Where is this place?"  
  
"It's by the docks. By Borgain's Construction Yard. I've never been there."  
  
Fredrick looked happy by this answer and the woman relaxed. "You've saved yourself a slow and painful death," he said grinning with his elongated teeth. "Instead you get a quick one." His face dove for her neck, but he was ripped away from the woman before his teeth touched flesh. He was hurled across the room into a pile of empty crates. Alececarr stood in his place.  
  
The idea that this second man might be her savior passed quickly when she looked into his eyes. "You will feed only when I have had my fill," he called over to Fredrick, who was pulling himself from the broken crates, amazed that such a small body could be that strong.  
  
The woman screamed, and Alececarr let her, knowing it wouldn't last long. As he sucked, her scream faded as if she were flying away from them. In essence that wasn't far from the truth. Her experience was far different from Erica's. She did not feel as if her pain was being taken away, but her life. Feeling was pulled from her extremities, leaving behind darkness and loneliness. Despair and void filled what had once been a virulent and boisterous woman. Breath left her and she fell in a heap next to the other woman.  
  
"Fear is nearly as potent as ecstasy," Alececarr said, swirling his tongue around his mouth. "While one is sweet and spicy, the other is rich and meaty. Each emotion brings with it its own variety and power. You will learn to appreciate it."  
  
"Will I?" Fredrick replied sarcastically, having finally removed himself from the crates and moved over to his master. The second woman lay on the floor completely drained as well.  
  
Alececarr laughed. "It is a big city and we have lots of-"  
  
"What's all the noise?"  
  
Another voice came from the front. This one was not female. It was one of the brothers who owned this bar. He moved out into the main area of the stock room. The door was open, two dead women lay on the floor, but no one else was there. It was as quiet as death.

* * *

Christine Toole walked slowly down the steps into the cellar carrying a single candle. Her other hand carefully lifted the front of her nightgown so she wouldn't trip, leaving no hand to steady herself on the railing. It was still two hours before dawn, and she wasn't fully awake yet, but she managed to make it down without falling.  
  
She had woken an hour ago and hadn't been able to get back to sleep. She had dreamt of the party her father was giving in a couple days, and she had been wearing the most beautiful gown. Her memory was pretty good, and she had spent the last half hour sketching it on a piece of paper, trying to figure out how she would make it. It required several feet of purple satin, and she was pretty sure there was some down here.  
  
The stone floor was cold on her bare feet and she quickly scampered to a rug. A scurrying noise passed by a few feet to her right. "If a mouse runs over my feet," she muttered under her breath, "I am going to scream."  
  
The air was extra chilly down there this morning, and she moved quickly through the large storage cellar. She moved past her father's wine collection and stacks of kegs. He kept several paintings down here that he rotated with others in his vast house. Skins and furs lay in a pile, and she almost stopped to wrap one around herself, but while they were clean, they still looked like animals, and she shivered as much at the thought of that, as she did the cold.  
  
Way in the back was a small pile of her personal belongings. Most of them were memories from her childhood. A dried flower that a boy had given her at the age of 10, a few crafts she had made for her mother, papers and letters she had written for school, and then there were her sewing creations. She moved to set the candle down when she heard another noise from behind her. She turned to look, but there was nothing. She held the candle high, peering into the shadows by the kegs and furs, but couldn't see anything.  
  
"You're spooking yourself out, girl," she admonished herself. She ignored the phantom and set the candle on a ledge and began going through her stuff.  
  
Fredrick watched from the shadows. Craig had told him that he wouldn't be able to get into this house through the ground. Craig had been wrong, but his former partner hadn't counted on vampire strength either. Fredrick and Alececarr had made a hole by tunneling under the floor and removing a large stone slab, easily replaceable to cover their entrance.  
  
They had slipped out earlier that night through a cellar window and slipped back in a few moments ago, just before Christine had started down the stairs. Alececarr was already back in the tunnel, but Fredrick waited amongst the kegs to see who it was. He was not disappointed.  
  
The woman of his dreams was standing now, holding up a few pieces of fabric to the candlelight. She was standing directly between the candle and the kegs, illuminating her silhouette through the thin nightgown. He could clearly see she was not wearing any undergarments, and the cool air was doing interesting things to her body.  
  
His body ached for her.  
  
Alececarr had told him that the desires of the flesh from his old life would be replaced by something even better now. It was true. He had no pulse and had no breath, so the reactions he would normally experience when looking at a beautiful young woman were gone. Replacing them was a different type of desire. It was centered on power, not lust.  
  
She was young and full of life. Lust's desire was to immerse yourself in that life. Power wished to feed upon it, to consume and own it. It was far more primal, far more controlling and intoxicating. Fredrick could barely restrain himself. He knew now was not the time, though. If Thurston Toole's only daughter was killed in her cellar, their point of entry would be discovered, and Thurston would bring the whole city down upon them.  
  
No, now was not the right time. He would have her. He would conquer her, but he would take pleasure in the chase. The effort and work he would put into it would make the prize that much sweeter. Besides, he wanted to know how he should take her. Alececarr had shown him ecstasy and fear, each with their own flavor and power. He didn't know which he would prefer. He would have to experiment with others.  
  
Christine had found her purple satin, and was walking back to the stairs. She paused as she reached the kegs, remembering the sound she had heard. She raised the light again and looked back into the shadows. Fredrick was directly underneath her and she looked past him.  
  
He could reach out and touch her if he wanted. He could smell her too. Though he did not require breath, he could still smell. It was necessary for the hunt. She smelled raw. She was unbathed and unperfumed. The sweat and oil from the night's sleep still clung to her skin. Fredrick inhaled it deeply. That is what he would eventually taste. Not the perfumes and flowers that girls covered themselves with, but the raw human juices. Fredrick almost drooled.  
  
Christine saw nothing, and walked quickly back to the stairs and up out of the cellar. Fredrick watched her body move under her nightgown until she was out of site. He sighed and slipped back into his tunnel to follow his master.


	4. The Party

**Chapter 3**  
"The Party"  
  
Cologne.  
  
Entreri looked at the bottle with apprehension. It was a necessary thing in this culture where running water was a luxury and baths were still only taken once or twice a week. Entreri liked to bathe with a little more frequency and had rigged a hot water tank for his washroom, but it was still a chore.  
  
Entreri had worn cologne before. He had been hired for several jobs where he had gone to balls and killed high-level officials. It was his job to blend in and he had looked, acted, spoke, and even smelled like all the other guests.  
  
For this party he had bought a new set of clothes, had just gotten out of the bath, and had shaved. The difference now was that he was not just trying to blend in with the other guests; he was one of the other guests. Before he had always despised those people. They were all rich snobs who sneered at the lower class, but it was their extravagant lifestyles that drove up prices and taxes and created the lower class.  
  
Now Entreri was one of them. In his own way, he was trying to raise the level of living for the lower class, not out of compassion for them, but to keep himself from being a hypocrite. It was also good business to treat his employees well. And that was the mind set he was going to need for this evening.  
  
This party was not a social event for him. Yes there would be food and music and likely dancing, but he was there to improve his business. He was there to take stock in the financial structure of the city and find out how he could influence it. If that meant he had to have pleasant conversations, then he would. If he had to kiss a few hands (and asses), then he would do that. If he had to wear cologne, he would.  
  
Artemis Entreri shook a few drops out of his bottle of "Midnight Surrender" on his hands and rubbed it into his neck. He adjusted his tie, put on a black hat, and walked out of his home into a new lifestyle.

* * *

There was a slight knock on the door. "Are you decent?"  
  
Christine smiled at the all too familiar question. "Yes, Dad. You can come in."  
  
Thurston Toole opened the door slowly, just like he always did. He had been very careful to protect her privacy this past year since she had returned from the academy, trying to instill in his own mind that she was no longer Daddy's little girl. She was 24-years-old now and had her own life. He tried to instill that in her by his actions, but had found that she was still very casual around him.  
  
Sure enough, some of her undergarments were hanging over one of the chairs. At least her idea of decent had changed. She was fully dressed for a change. "I've brought you something," he said once he had closed the door behind him.  
  
Christine turned from her mirror to look at her father. He was carrying a large box. "A present for me?" she asked, though it was a rhetorical question. She got up quickly, snatched the box from her father, and raced over to the bed to open it. She demonstrated all the excitement of a little girl, and it brought a smile to her father's face.  
  
The ribbon was cut, the paper torn off, and the lid tossed aside. "Oh, Daddy, you shouldn't have." Christine held up a beautiful dress. "It's gorgeous, and it must have cost a fortune. You really shouldn't have."  
  
"Of course I should have. This is a big night for you, and I want you to look your best."  
  
"Thank you, but I mean you really shouldn't have," she repeated herself again, with a look over her father's shoulder. He turned and saw an equally beautiful gown hanging on a mannequin.  
  
"Oh, you already bought one," he was completely dejected.  
  
Christine was too excited to notice right away. "No, I made it myself," she said, casting her father's dress on the bed as she ran over to her own creation. "Isn't it perfect! And I had most of the fabric already so I only had buy a little bit. What do you think?"  
  
"It is perfect, just like you. You are going to be a great seamstress."  
  
"Not just a seamstress," she corrected. "I want to design my own clothes. I made this dress from a sketch of a dream I had. I could design my own line of clothing or make custom clothes for other people. They don't have stores like that here, not like they did down in Choraston. If Garrilport is going to be a big city, they are going to need to have their own fashions."  
  
Thurston smiled at his daughter's enthusiasm. Most girls had passions and desires, but Christine had the education and determination to carry them through. He didn't know anything about fashion, but he could see her skill, and if her clothes sailed south on one of the many ships that left each week and sold well in the bigger cities, she could make quite a name for herself. She had the potential to be more successful than he was.  
  
"So do you want me to take the dress back to the store?" he asked.  
  
Christine gasped and put her hand over her mouth, realizing for the first time that she had upstaged her father's expensive gift. "Oh, I'm sorry Dad. I didn't mean to spoil your present. No, don't take it back. It is beautiful and I will wear it. Maybe if I meet the right one tonight, I will have another opportunity to get dressed up."  
  
Her father smiled, but his tone grew serious. "Don't feel too much pressure tonight, honey. I don't want to force you into anything."  
  
"No one is going to force me to do anything I don't want to do. You should know that by now," she winked.  
  
"Okay, good. Then I'll see you downstairs in an hour?"  
  
She nodded. "My friends should be arriving in about thirty minutes." He nodded, and she walked over to him. "Thanks for the dress, and for everything," she kissed him on the cheek. "I love you."  
  
"I love you too," he replied, and then quickly left before the tear forming in his eye had a chance to roll down his cheek. As he walked downstairs he couldn't help but think that his little girl was definitely all grown up.  
  
She would look gorgeous tonight in her dress too. Christine was taller than most girls, and while tall women were usually thin, Christine had hips and a chest that were not. And while the boys tended to like her proportions, dressmakers did not. Thurston had searched a good while for the dress he had bought, and he still wasn't completely sure it would fit right.  
  
Garrilport did need a custom dressmaker. Christine would do well. In the year since she had returned from the Women's Academy in Choraston, the largest city along the Garill River, she had been working at a fabric store, trying to save up enough money to buy her own shop. Thurston had offered to give her the money several times, even as a loan with interest, but she had refused saying that he hadn't spent all that money on her schooling, so he could continue to support her financially when she got back.  
  
Unlike most educated, independent thinking women of the day, she did want to get married. That was what tonight was mostly about. She had complained to her father about all the young boys walking into the fabric store, obviously not there to buy anything, but just there to try and get her attention. They were uninteresting, immature, and only after one thing.  
  
Thurston had wanted to show her that not all men were like that, so he invited all the single members of the merchants' council to his home a few weeks back. As the men started to arrive, he had realized he had erred. The men were well-educated and successful yes, but they were also fat, ugly, and balding. Some of them were older than he was. In fact, most of them were older than he was.  
  
Christine had thanked her father for the gesture, but had said she was looking for someone a little younger and better looking. And she wasn't interested in money. She wanted someone who was young, smart, good- looking, successful, but not filthy rich. She had her own goals, and as much as she wanted to get married and start a family, she didn't want it to interfere with her other plans.  
  
"So basically you want everything," he had told her.  
  
She had laughed, cocked her head, and responded, "Yep."  
  
So Thurston had gone through the city finding young, attractive, successful men. In doing so he discovered that there were a lot more than he would have thought. So much so that he realized the current merchants' council was doing a poor job of running the city and there were a bunch of up-and-coming businessmen who had a lot of good ideas and could change the status of their city.  
  
So he was killing two birds with one stone tonight. He had his agenda, and his daughter had hers. He just knew that tonight she was going to meet the man who would change her life forever.

* * *

Fredrick adjusted his coat for the umpteenth time. "How are you supposed to get dressed up without a mirror?" Fredrick was still getting used to the restrictions that went along with being a vampire. Not having a reflection was one of them. Not like they even had a mirror. They were in a cramped dirt cave. Fredrick had been through countless changes of clothes because of the dirt, while Alececarr had not changed once and did not appear to have one speck of dirt on him. It was probably because he spent most of his time in his coffin.  
  
"A vampire's strength is a result of his confidence and inner power, not outward physical beauty." The ancient vampire was not in his coffin, but he too was getting ready for the night.  
  
"That's easy for you to say," Fredrick came back, "you probably made the girls go crazy before you died."  
  
Though Alececarr had become very fluent in this city's language, he still did not understand half of what Fredrick said. "The girls were not 'crazy' for me, as you say. I was an underachiever before I was reborn. My outward appearance is simply a reflection of the power within me. Over time, your face and body will take on the image of your inner demon as well."  
  
Fredrick understood what his master said. Alececarr was very calm and patient. It had been two nights since they had fed on the women from the bar. Alececarr had spent that time meditating in the coffin. Fredrick on the other hand had been out each night. He was far too restless.  
  
As a result of Alececarr's inner calm, his face was very placid and somber. Women looked into his eyes and saw peace and warmth. Fredrick thought about his own transformation as his death. Alececarr had called it his rebirth. That was what he truly believed, and that is what others thought would happen to them if they gave themselves over to this man, which they did without restraint.  
  
Like wise, when Alececarr prepared to feed, and his inner demon awoke, his face was transformed accordingly. His teeth elongated, his brow furrowed, his eyes turned red, and his voice became a feral growl. Fredrick felt that way all the time and had to work hard to control his inner cravings.  
  
"You will not betray us this night?" Alececarr asked. It was a question, but Fredrick understood it as a command as well. The nights he had been out before, he had fed on more drunks and vagrants, but from the clothes he was putting on, Alececarr could see he was going somewhere with a lot more respectable people.  
  
"I will not. Tonight I will hunt. I do not plan to feed, though I will not pass up an opportunity should it present itself. But tonight's purpose is to prepare for my first true feeding. She is still not ripe, I will be patient."  
  
Alececarr smiled. His prodigy was young and brash, but he was learning.  
  
Dwarves are true smiths. They spend their lives in the forge fashioning marvelous weapons, but each truly great smith creates one weapon that can be seen as their crowning achievement. After it, they will never again achieve its greatness, but will savor that weapon till the end of their days.  
  
Drow matron mothers do many great things in their lives from waging house wars to performing elaborate ceremonies for Lloth, but each matron mother is judged by one achievement above all other: How many daughters does she have? That is what determines their greatness, and that is what will grant them respect among their peers.  
  
All races and cultures have that one moment in their life or that one great achievement that defines their lives. For a vampire it is the first hunt, fulfilling that first passion and desire. Realizing that one goal they could not achieve in their old life. It was through this process that they realized their true power, and it was the result of this process that shaped the way they would hunt for the rest of eternity.  
  
Alececarr remembered his first hunt. The love of his life had already married and given birth, and it was this toddler that he had groomed to be his first. He followed the girl through her life, always influencing the things around her, guaranteeing that everything went her way. She succeeded in every aspect of her life. Every aspect except for one. Every man she met died. Every boy that expressed even the slightest interest in her met a horrible end. Every crush, every flirt, everyone was removed from her life in increasingly violent ways. Everyone, that is, until Alececarr stepped visibly into her life.  
  
He wooed her and showed her all the care and respect that only someone who had followed her entire life could. Then, on the night she was willing to give herself to him. He told her who he was. He explained in clear detail how he had killed the men who had come before him. He explained how all of her successes had been his doing and how he had followed her since she was a baby. He told her this, she cried out in sorrow and anguish, and he took her.  
  
Alececarr did not turn her. Instead he carried her lifeless body back to her mother, the woman who had first scorned him. He told her everything, and then killed her. He killed her husband and their children and grandchildren. He removed the family from the face of Faerun. That hunt had taken almost 30 years and it had taught him patience and efficiency, traits that had ruled his life ever since.  
  
"Where will you go tonight?" Fredrick asked.  
  
"I will visit the Dragon restaurant we were told about two nights ago. We must leave this cave. I am ready to build my army and it will be in the northern part of your city. This restaurant sounds like a good opportunity."  
  
Fredrick was glad to hear this. He was getting very tired of this dank, muddy hole they lived in. They had dug their way to a sewer tunnel, allowing them to leave without traipsing through the Toole house, but it would be nice to have a building with a door and a bed.  
  
Alececarr could feel Fredrick's impatience. "All things will come to pass in time. No one in this city can stop my rise to power. This place is without magic or power. No one here has the power to stop me." Alececarr began to laugh and Fredrick joined in. "Nobody will stop us!"

* * *

Entreri felt like a nobody.  
  
It was a cool night and Entreri had decided to walk. It was either walk or ride a horse, and he didn't want his new clothes to smell, so he had walked. It was about a half mile to the center wall of the city that divided the north half from the south. Most people had to walk to the center of the city to pass through the opening at the guardhouse, but Entreri had made friends with the mechanics who operated the locks at the mouth of the river. The gear house bordered the river at the wall, and Entreri could get through there as well.  
  
Once on the other side, it was another half mile down the bank of the river until he arrived at the Toole house. No one else had walked. Horse drawn carriages were lined up around the circular courtyard of the house, each taking their turn unloading their passengers and then driving off to the stable area.  
  
Entreri was surely as rich as any of these people, but he didn't know how to live like it. So he felt very much like a nobody as he walked up the sidewalk to the front entrance of the house.  
  
"Excuse me, sir," a doorman stepped up to stop Entreri, "this is an invitation only gathering. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."  
  
"I am invited," the assassin replied curtly.  
  
The doorman glanced briefly over at the carriages to see an elderly man in a tuxedo helping his wife, who wore enough diamonds to start a glass cutting company, out of a carriage that was the size of some of Entreri's ships. The doorman looked back at Entreri, who was nicely dressed, but not remarkably so. He had also obviously walked. "You are invited?"  
  
"That is what I said," Entreri replied, keeping his anger down. "Do you have a guest list? My name is Artemis Entreri."  
  
The doorman walked back to a podium at which the elderly couple was checking in. Entreri's name was toward the top of the alphabetical list. "You are Artemis Entreri?"  
  
The doorman should have felt extremely lucky that Entreri had decided to leave all his weapons at home this night. Thurston saved him. "Artemis, I'm glad you could make it."  
  
"Thank you for the invitation," Entreri said walking up the few steps to the main doorway.  
  
"I hope you found the house okay."  
  
"The house was easy to find, but the doorway seems to be a bit elusive," Entreri replied, casting a look at the suddenly timid doorman.  
  
"Oh, don't worry about Bently," Thurston said jovially, though Entreri could see him giving the doorman an evil eye, "he's just being an ass, but that's what I pay him for. Please, come inside."  
  
Entreri accepted the offer and walked through the arched doorway into a vaulted entrance hall. A house servant approached him to take his coat, but Entreri's jacket was part of his attire and he kept it. The foyer had a large chandelier over the center of the room, and a modest stairway leading up to the right.  
  
"Continue on into the living room please, I must stay here and be hospitable."  
  
Entreri did as he was told. The living room was vast and cleared of furniture. Straight ahead led back outside to a large wooden deck that looked out over the river. A few steps led off the deck to a small lawn where a couple pavilions were set up. To Entreri's left was a darkened hallway leading to a bathroom and a study.  
  
To his right was an open dinning room with the huge table removed from the center and much smaller tables lining the walls with an assortment of appetizers. Next to the dinning room was the kitchen, and the batwing doors kept flipping back and forth as the cooks continually refilled the tables.  
  
Beyond the dinning room was the ballroom where Entreri could see a few instruments set up, but no players yet and the lights were dimmed. There was also a very elaborate 90-degree spiral staircase emptying into the ballroom. It was a beautiful house.  
  
Entreri also took notice of the people. He was not the only one not wearing a tuxedo. In fact, the majority of the men in attendance were dressed very similarly. It was only the older men who wore tuxes. Also, the older men seemed to be the only ones with wives. Other than a handful of older people, the house was filled with about 30 single men ages 25 to 40. Things looked a little suspicious.  
  
Entreri had dealt with a few merchants in the city, and scanned the crowd to see if any of them were here. He wanted someone to talk with to see if they knew any more about this gathering than he did. But as far as he could see, there was no one here he knew.  
  
"Art, I didn't expect to see you here."  
  
Entreri turned at the familiar voice. "Captain Irenum," Entreri replied, the annoyance in his voice carefully hidden.  
  
"Is that cologne I smell?"  
  
Entreri didn't say anything, staring holes into the captain's head.  
  
"That has to go against the assassin's credo."  
  
"Number four says, 'Don't pass gas upwind of your prey,'" Entreri replied dryly.  
  
"In other words, blend in with your surroundings," John said. Despite himself, Entreri was impressed by John's accurate interpretation. "Well then, I must say you are doing an excellent job. You look just like every other stuck-up rich person in this room."  
  
Entreri let the insult roll off him. "You don't." John was dressed very casually. "In fact, why are you even here? When did you enter the arena of finances?"  
  
"Excuse me?" John was fidgeting with the table behind them and not really listening.  
  
"That's what this gathering is for, right?" Entreri asked, already having figured out that it wasn't. "Why were you invited?"  
  
"Thurston paid me a visit," John said. "He told me what a great job I was doing running the guardhouse at a relatively young age and said that I had the potential to do big things. The city is growing and the leadership is getting old. We need young men to step up and take charge. He said much of that would be discussed tonight."  
  
"So you want to join politics?" Entreri sounded doubtful.  
  
"Nothing could be further from the truth. I want to put in my 25 years of service for the city, retire with a pension and raise horses."  
  
"Then why did you come?"  
  
John held up a piece of jumbo shrimp and some meat and cheese between crackers. "The food at these things is great."  
  
Entreri shook his head. He kept looking over the crowd and finally saw one or two more people that he might have recognized but decided they weren't worth tracking down. He had a feeling that everything would be sorted out shortly. He was right.  
  
"May I have your attention please," Thurston shouted as he walked through the crowd. The group quieted, and those on the deck came inside. Thurston walked to the end of the dining room and turned around. Behind him the musicians began setting up and the lights in the ballroom came on full.  
  
"I'd like to thank you all for coming tonight. I'm sure you are all curious to find out what this gathering is all about, but I thought we would take some time to loosen up first and socialize a bit. Some of you might know each other; in fact, some of you might be competitors and wish financial ruin on each other. But tonight we are all on the same side.  
  
"Garrilport is growing and we can all grow with it. Not at each other's expense, but toward everyone's gain. So talk, trade ideas, learn knew things about the city. At the same time, have a good time, eat, drink, and dance. I'll be around to talk to each of you."  
  
With that the band began to play, and a few of the older couples ventured out onto the ballroom floor. The rest of the men just looked at each other awkwardly. "Would you like to dance?" Entreri asked John.  
  
"Bad knee," the captain replied, shaking his head and stuffing his face. Those others who hadn't realized it yet were now noticing that this was a very stag party. They murmured for a while, and then quickly quieted down.  
  
All eyes turned to the spiral staircase in the ballroom. Descending, in all the regal splendor of a royal court were the women. Christine led the group, followed by almost a dozen of her friends. The women ranged in age from 20 to 30, each dressed in a fabulous gown.  
  
"That would be Toole's daughter," John whispered to Entreri.  
  
John didn't need to point out which one. She had her father's stature and firm jaw. She was also the most alluring one in the group, and if her father had collected the cities most eligible bachelors for her perusing, she would have been silly to invite anyone more attractive than she. Not that the other women weren't beautiful in their own right, but it was hard to compete with Thurston Toole's only child.  
  
There is an inherent problem in all men.  
  
The average man has an incredible knack for devoting himself entirely to a task. If they strive to be the best at something, then they will work at it until they achieve their goal or prove it cannot be done. Women often call this stubbornness, but for a man it is called determination. As a result it is more often than not men who become the leaders in their community. They are the ones with the inventions and the marketable skills.  
  
The problem arises when they try to devote themselves to more than one thing at a time. Women are great at this. Men stink at it. The men Thurston invited to this party were single for a reason. They had devoted their lives to their craft. They had gone to school or trained as an apprentice or learned from their father and they had devoted all of their energies toward their goals and had immerged successful. It was not as if they hadn't noticed women, but they just hadn't had time.  
  
There were men that devoted themselves exclusively to the pursuit of women. These were the ones that came into the fabric shop to flirt with Christine. These were the ones that whistled at girls on the street or went to bars to work on their pick up lines. These were the types that Christine and her friends were trying to avoid.  
  
The women knew all this and were prepared for it. They were thus willing to put forth the effort to bring these men out of their shells. If they had to initiate conversation then they would do it if it meant they had a chance to land a husband whose primary skill was not belching the alphabet (and belching it out of order, as Christine had heard some do).  
  
So as the women made it to the floor, and approached the herd of men, they were not surprised when, instead of stepping up to meet them, they stepped aside to let the women walk by, as if they were just passing through. So the women began to break off, walking right up to their pick, often cornering them against the wall and then dragging them onto the dance floor.  
  
Christine had moved to the center of her friends, scanning the crowd for her first 'victim' of the night. All the eyes she met looked away quickly, or were too timid to even meet her gaze in the first place. She was determined to find someone that had at least some level of confidence. After a few anxious moments, she did find someone and moved toward him.  
  
The few friends who were in front of Christine continued to plow ahead, and the crowd parted for them like water around the hull of a ship. They too wanted to find a man who was not scared of a little lace and perfume. They found him toward the back.  
  
The crowd had parted, but this man had not moved an inch. He stood in the middle of the room and the crowd seemed to hush as they looked at him. He was lean, just a hair over six feet. He had blond hair, blue eyes, and perfect posture. His lips smiled revealing white teeth inside dimpled cheeks.  
  
The women at the front of the pack swooned, and Fredrick smiled even more. He had only been a vampire for a few days, but already could feel the changes in his body. All the fat had disappeared, any hint of acne was gone, his hairline would never recede any further, scars had disappeared, and even his teeth had gotten whiter. Alececarr had told him that his outward appearance would conform to his inner strengths. Well, right now he felt he was the sexiest man alive, and none of the women were going to argue with him.  
  
The three women in front of Christine practically elbowed each other as they raced forward, trying to snag this tasty treat. "Excuse me, ladies," he said before any of them could think of an opening line. He politely pushed through them, touching two of them gently on their bare skin. His cold touch sent chills through their bodies.  
  
Christine saw him coming toward her and stopped. This was not the man she had picked out earlier, and she didn't know what to think about him. Fredrick looked at all the other women with only one thing on his mind, and that is what they felt, but when he looked at Christine, the object of his hunt, there was power mixed with his desire.  
  
Christine was both excited and frightened by this young man. His face seemed very familiar, but as a cold crept into her lungs as he drew near, she knew she would have remembered if she had seen him before. "You are surely the fairest flower in this bouquet of feminine beauty," he said. "Would you honor me with a dance?"  
  
Now Christine was the timid one. Her body yearned to say yes but her mind screamed a warning. The way he looked at her made her feel weak and afraid. He caressed her body with his eyes, making her feel violated inside. There was nothing calm or peaceful about this man, but something inside her didn't care. Suddenly the words romance and chivalry were just silly notions of a romance novel. Power and lust were what pumped blood through a person's body. Her mind screamed no, but her body screamed yes, and in a moment her body was going to win.  
  
But the moment took too long. "Perhaps another time then," he said, turning away from her when he saw the inner turmoil inside her was nearly won. This was a hunt, and he would be patient. Before the time came she would beg at his feet.  
  
"I . . ." she started, but Fredrick was already in the hands of one of her friends, whisking away to the dance floor. She looked after them for a while, but with his presence and gaze departed, she shook the chill from her spine and continued on.  
  
Entreri had been the only one in the room confident enough to return Christine's gaze. As she approached, she took full stock of the man. He was likely one of the oldest ones here, but he had aged well, unlike some of the much younger men, who were getting a little thick in the middle and thin on top. He held himself with an air of confidence that was very much lacking in the other men. He actually reminded her of her father.  
  
"Would you care to dance?" she asked.  
  
Entreri took a moment to register her words. His mind was still on the confrontation he had just witnessed. Something had happened that was not natural. The veteran of the realms had seen too much magic and too many powerful creatures not to recognize that there was more to this strange young man than met the eye.  
  
"Ah, my lady, I would greatly wish to dance with you but for these two left feet I have," Entreri said eloquently. "Perhaps my friend could assist you to make up for my inadequacy."  
  
They both turned to John who was currently trying peer over the crowd to see if there was more cheese dip on the table across the room. He felt them looking at him and turned to see. "Excuse me?"  
  
"This lady is in need of a dance partner. Would you be kind enough to assist her?"  
  
John briefly scowled at Entreri and then smiled at Christine. "Of course." They walked to the dance floor, and Entreri sought out Christine's mysterious suitor. The assassin watched for the next few minutes as Fredrick changed partners several times, but always had his eyes on Christine. She kept casting nervous glances at him over John's shoulder, but always looked away when she met his eyes.  
  
Finally, she couldn't take it anymore, thanked John at the end of the song, and left the dance floor. She walked past Entreri without a word, went through the living room, and then out on the deck. Entreri stayed where he was, munching on a few appetizers and watching Fredrick's reaction.  
  
When John came back he looked flush. "Are you okay?" Entreri asked.  
  
"Yes I'm fine, thank you. I'd like some wine."  
  
Entreri motioned to a waiter, and he brought each man a glass. John downed his quickly and then went back to work on the food. "Do you know who that is?" Entreri asked, motioning to the dance floor in Fredrick's direction.  
  
John looked and shook his head. "No, I don't. If he is a merchant in the city, then he has never had need of the city guard."  
  
Entreri didn't think John would be much help, but he though he would try anyway. On the dance floor, Fredrick was trying to pry himself away from the women and follow Christine. He slipped neatly into a crowd of dancers, and then slipped out the other side and made his way through the dining room. Once the women saw he had escaped, they turned to the other men.  
  
The vampire passed within four feet of Entreri as he made his way to the living room and then undoubtedly the deck. As he walked by, the hairs on the back of Entreri's neck stood up, and an unconscious chill went through him. He waited a few moments and then followed.  
  
Christine was the only one on the deck. She leaned on the railing with her elbows, looking out over the peaceful river. She just needed some fresh air. She wasn't sure who that mysterious stranger was, but she had to get him out of her mind. While he was definitely one of the more attractive men here tonight, that wasn't all she was after. She wanted someone confident and smart and sure of themselves. The only quality this stranger exuded was danger, and that wasn't good.  
  
John had seemed like a nice man. He was tall, strong, and a little unsure of himself in a social setting, but he was more than capable of handling himself in a variety of other situations. There were probably lots of other men just like him in there. She needed to go find one. The bad boy image wasn't healthy.  
  
"You remember me, don't you?"  
  
The voice was unmistakable. Christine fought with the desire to run away from this man, but curiosity overcame her suddenly. "Yes," she replied hesitantly, "I mean I think so. Uh, I don't know."  
  
Fredrick leaned his elbows against the railing, mimicking her pose and also looking out over the river. "I've always been with you. I always will be with you."  
  
"Who are you?" she asked, turning to look at him. He was still looking forward and his silhouette was outlined by the moon. She gasped. He was gorgeous. Her mind recognized his face, but it had changed slightly in the past few days, and there was no way she was going to place him as one of the men who came into her shop all the time. That boy, for that is what she thought of them, was rash, lewd, and immature. This was someone else. When she looked at him all she got was a very intense feeling of déjà vu.  
  
"I've dreamt about you, haven't I?" She had many dreams. She had dreamed of this night for that is where she got her idea for the dress. She had danced in her dream. Who had she danced with? Was it this man? Is that why he was so familiar?  
  
"You have dreamed of me every night, just as I have dreamed of you," he said slowly. "While this is our first meeting, we are not strangers."  
  
"I want to know you," she said without thinking and then bit her lip and looked back at the river, wishing to pull back those words.  
  
"You already know me," he replied. He finally turned to look at her, leaning over to whisper in her ear. "Look deep inside your heart. There you will find me pumping through you." He quickly flicked her ear with his tongue and then left before she could respond.  
  
Entreri was standing by the door, and as Fredrick walked away from his prey, Entreri turned and started to walk, as if he was on his way to the deck instead of just standing there. The two men exchanged looks and time froze for a moment. It was not a casual glance, but an exchange between two rivals. Entreri had seen Drizzt look at him like that many times, only the dark elf never had a fraction of the glib indifference that Fredrick showed. He saw Entreri as a fly circling his food. They were both after the same thing, but the vampire did not feel threatened.  
  
They locked eyes, and then the moment passed and both continued on as if nothing had happened. Fredrick went back to the dance floor, and Entreri out onto the deck. "Did you hear that?" Christine asked when she turned and saw Entreri behind her.  
  
"Hear what?" he lied. "I just wanted to apologize for not taking you up on your previous offer." He smiled at her and offered her his glass of wine.  
  
"Thank you." She took the drink and sipped it. They lapsed into silence. Christine waited past the point of embarrassment and then spoke, "Is there something you wanted to say?"  
  
Entreri had forgotten where he was for a moment, his mind going back to his battles with Drizzt and his confusion about this new potential enemy. But did he really want to fight him for Christine? He was never one to avoid conflict, but to engage himself in this situation didn't make any sense.  
  
"Huh," he responded.  
  
"I didn't think so," she said and walked past him back into the house.  
  
Entreri sighed and suddenly wished he had never come. He could be back in his restaurant right now instead of fighting some imaginary battle with some mysterious stranger over a woman he had no interest in.  
  
Entreri sighed again, tried to take a sip of wine, realized he had just given his glass away, and then went inside to get another.

* * *

Alececarr was sitting in The Dragon's Lair. While the atmosphere of the restaurant was still far below his usual standards, it was the nicest he had seen so far. He understood from Fredrick that almost all of the restaurants in the south were at least this good or better, but he also understood that the city guards patrolled the streets down south and every potential victim was a son or a daughter or a wife or a father. In short, their feeding would not go unnoticed.  
  
Alececarr needed to set up some roots in this city. The north was his only option, and a bar or restaurant seemed like the best choice. This was the nicest place available, so Alececarr was very interested in meeting management.  
  
"Good evening sir, may I start you off with something to drink?" The waiter was polite and direct, though it looked like he hadn't bathed in quite some time.  
  
"A wine list, please," the vampire responded, "and I was wondering if I could talk to the owner."  
  
The waiter had expected as much. This guest was quite obviously not a northerner, and it seemed like everyone who came from the south wanted to speak with the boss. The young man produced a wine list and placed it on the table. "I will see if the owner is available."  
  
Alececarr looked over the wine list and was mildly impressed. A few moments later another man came to the table. "Good evening sir, my name is Dorin Fletch. I'm afraid Mr. Entreri is not here at the moment. Is there something I can help you with?"  
  
"Entreri is the owner?"  
  
"Yes, sir." Dorin was a bit taken aback. He had asked for the owner, how could he not know who that was? "I am the foreman for Borgain Construction, and I run the restaurant in his absence."  
  
"I see," Alececarr replied. "When will he return?"  
  
"He did not say, only that he would be gone tonight on personal business. If you would like to leave a message for him-"  
  
"No, no, that will be okay." The vampire wanted to turn Entreri into a vampire and take over this establishment. It was tough to leave that in message form. "I will return another night."  
  
"Can I get you something to eat anyway?"  
  
"I believe I'll just have a glass of your red wine tonight, thank you."  
  
"Nothing to eat?" Dorin asked again, taking the wine list and motioning to a waiter to bring the drink.  
  
"I'll let you know if I see anything I like."  
  
Dorin took the drink from the waiter and set it on the table. "Of course," he replied and walked away.  
  
Alececarr sipped his wine and looked around at the other guests in the restaurant, trying to see if there was anything he liked.

* * *

The rest of the night at the Toole home was relatively uneventful. Fredrick had left. Both Entreri and Christine had looked for him after their brief meeting on the deck, but he was gone. Christine tried to continue with the rest of the night as planned, but her mind was elsewhere.  
  
Fredrick had turned into a curse on her mind. He was like a song stuck in her head, and she didn't even know his name. By the end of the night she hadn't gotten to know anyone else, despite efforts to socialize. She had almost convinced herself that he was psycho, and that she didn't know him at all, and her mind was just playing tricks with her. But it wasn't true, and she knew it.  
  
Entreri had significantly more luck. When Fredrick had disappeared, he stopped thinking about him. If he wanted Christine and was casting some kind of spell on her, then more power to him. Instead, the up-an-coming businessman spent the rest of his night talking with other merchants.  
  
By the end of the night, he had found two more dealers who could turn his dragon gems into usable currency, had found a discount dealer for nails and fasteners for his ships, and struck a deal with a local printer to get color menus for his restaurant. Everyone he talked to also promised to come and visit his restaurant, but he didn't put too much weight behind that. People didn't just casually make trips through the northern section of town.  
  
As the people began to file out Christine tried to salvage the night, meeting them at the door to thank them for coming. As the men filed past, she realized she hadn't met half of them, and couldn't remember the other half's names. She had danced with a few, and hoped they would call on her in a few days, but she was sure she had come off as being largely disinterested due to her distraction.  
  
She smiled as she finally came to someone she remembered, though she didn't even know his name. "We were never properly introduced," she said as he started to leave.  
  
"My apologies," he replied. "My name is Artemis Entreri." Entreri didn't know what to say next. He wanted to leave and go home, but felt there was probably something else he should say.  
  
Christine smiled at the silence. "Is there something you wanted to say?" she asked, repeating her question from earlier that night.  
  
"Your dress is beautiful," he settled with.  
  
"Thank you," she responded. Many people had said she was beautiful that night, but no one had commented on her dress.  
  
"You're welcome. The seamstress did an excellent job."  
  
"I made it myself," Christine replied, beaming quite noticeably.  
  
"My compliment stands," Entreri smiled, tipped his hat in a bow, and walked out of the house, letting out a long sigh as he did. He hoped he wouldn't have to do that again for a long while.  
  
Behind him men continued to file out, and Christine said good night. She was interrupted as one of her friends came rushing up to her. "Hi, Sarah, did you have a good time?"  
  
"It was a great party, Christy, thanks for inviting us, but have you seen Betty? She and I came here together, but I can't find her anywhere. She wouldn't leave without me, would she?"  
  
"I wouldn't think so," Christine replied, nodding to two more departing guests. "I'll let you know if I see her."

* * *

"Freddy! Freddy, stop! Slow down!" Betty screamed.  
  
Fredrick brought the horse under control and slowed him to a trot. "Aw, come on. You have to live a little."  
  
"I think we've lived quite a bit tonight already, don't you?"  
  
Fredrick turned on the horse to look at her. "You don't want to quite now, do you?" he gave her a wink.  
  
"If you put it that way . . ." she smiled.  
  
"Good. Let's go!" He kicked the horse into a gallop.  
  
"Freddy!" she screamed again but just decided to hold on tight and enjoy it.  
  
They were a mile south of town on a horse Fredrick had stolen from the Toole stable, though he had said it was his. They were riding along the road about fifty feet away from the river. The road was well traveled, but it was late and they hadn't seen anyone yet.  
  
After a minute of fast riding, Fredrick yanked the reins to the right, and they dove off the road into the grass and trees along the bank. Betty wanted to scream again, but she was too scared. The ground fell away near the river, and her stomach was suddenly in her throat. Then as quickly as it had started, Fredrick brought the horse to a halt in a large level clearing right next to the river.  
  
"How was that?" he asked, turning in the saddle to look her in the eye.  
  
Betty had a very difficult time catching her breath. "It . . . (pant) . . . it was . . . (pant) . . ." But Fredrick kissed her before she could finish her thought. It was a long, slow kiss, and Betty's breathing reduced dramatically, but her heart rate only increased.  
  
Fredrick broke it off suddenly and slipped off the horse. "It was what?"  
  
Though she no longer gasped for air, her chest still rose and fell from her heavy breathing and her eyes were lost somewhere in space. Words wouldn't come to her. Fredrick smiled as he pulled her off the horse. She fell into his arms, and drew toward him for more, but he pushed her away for now.  
  
"This is a great spot," he said, walking to the middle of the clearing as he kicked off his boots and socks. "The river comes into this spot right here and there is virtually no current." He took off his jacket and shirt and jumped in the water.  
  
Fredrick swum out a ways and turned back to look at his date. She was frowning. "I'm not going in the water."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I'm wearing a dress, silly boy."  
  
"Then take it off."  
  
It was as if the idea had never occurred to her. She looked around for a moment, to see if anyone was watching, but obviously no one was. She started to reach back for the zipper, but stopped. "I don't know."  
  
Fredrick stood up in a shallow part of the river, water running down his muscular chest, his cotton pants clinging to his legs. "You'll enjoy it."  
  
That was all the encouragement she needed. She unzipped the back, slid it over her head, and hung the dress on a tree branch. She walked to the edge of the water and kicked off her shoes. She hesitated a moment, standing there in a corset and underwear. Fredrick leaped out of the water, faster than she could have imagined, and pulled her in.  
  
She screamed, but quickly shut her mouth as they both went under. They surfaced, wrestled briefly, and ended the session with another kiss. "See," Fredrick said, their faces only a few inches apart, "I said you would enjoy it."  
  
"Yes, but why did we have to come way out here? There are lots of places to swim closer to town."  
  
"True," Fredrick admitted, "but down here, no one will hear you scream."  
  
She pushed away and playfully splashed him in the face. "Oh, Freddy, you're awful," she laughed, misunderstanding what he was really talking about.  
  
With a smile on his face, Fredrick pulled her close again and showed her what he was really talking about. She did scream. No one heard her.

* * *

Not surprisingly, Christine couldn't sleep that night. She tossed and turned in her bed. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Fredrick's face. She still didn't have a name for him, and he was just "Him." She feared what her dreams would be like if she ever got to sleep. That He would be in them was not in question, but what role would he play? Long lost friend? Lover? Tormenter? Savior? All of the above?  
  
She sat up in bed. The curtains to her balcony were blowing in the wind. She thought she remembered closing the door. She looked around the room. He was sitting on a chair a few feet from the balcony door. She wasn't frightened and moved to light her oil lamp.  
  
"No. Don't do that. Leave the light off. I am not really here. I am just a dream."  
  
Christine smirked despite the situation. "That's a good thing, because my father would kill you if you had actually sneaked into my room at night."  
  
"You are a grown woman, Christine. Your father does not tell you what you can or cannot do anymore. You must think for yourself now." He paused. "What do you want?"  
  
Christine struggled with the question. She wanted a store. She wanted a family. She wanted a nice young man. She wanted Him. She wanted everything.  
  
"It is not such a difficult question," he said after she remained silent.  
  
"Not if you have all the answers," she bit back.  
  
"Fair enough, what do I know that you don't?"  
  
She paused. "I want to know your name?"  
  
Somehow, even though his face was cloaked in shadow, she could "hear" him smile. "Tonight you will dream, and you will give me a name." He let her think about that for a while. "You do know that you will dream about me?"  
  
"Yes," she admitted. They lapsed into silence.  
  
"Do you want to see me again?"  
  
"I don't know," Christine replied honestly.  
  
"Think about your dreams this night. What will they be about? How will you feel when you wake up? What will your memories of me be?"  
  
Christine knew the answers to these questions but did not say them out loud. Instead she answered his first question. "Yes, I do want to see you again."  
  
He smiled again. "Good," he said, getting up from his chair and stepping over to the curtains.  
  
"When will I see you again?" she asked a bit too eagerly.  
  
"When the time is right and all your uncertainties are answered. Now, lie down and go to sleep. Sweet dreams, my love." He walked through the curtains, and when they blew apart again a few seconds later, the balcony was empty.  
  
Feeling more at ease, Christine lay down, closed her eyes, and fell into a deep sleep.  
  
--------------------------------------  
  
All of you who have read so far and had been patient with me, thank you. The next chapter has lots of Entreri in it. I've been told that people do not like original characters, but I've also been told that fanfiction doesn't have enough well-developed original characters. For this story to work, Entreri needs the characters of Fredrick, Christine, Thurston Toole, and Alececarr to be well developed. Maybe this wasn't nearly as frustrating to read as I'm making it out to be and everyone has enjoyed the past three chapters, though my brother has already asked, "Why is Entreri even there? It seems like he is just there for filler." Trust me, he isn't. All will become clear. Please let me know if I go too far with Entreri's character. He is going to do some pretty radical stuff. The cologne is just the beginning. :)  
  
Oh, and I haven't completely settled on a new name for Fredrick. If Angel wasn't taken, that would have been perfect. I'm still debating between a few others, but I'm not really happy with any of them. Suggestions are welcome.


	5. The Negotiation

**Chapter 4**   
"The Negotiation"  
  
Entreri woke the next morning at dawn with a smile on his face. Today was going to be a good day. Entreri was excited about the business opportunities he had found last night at the Toole party.  
  
He had scheduled three meetings today, and since no one in their right mind would go into the north for a short meeting, Entreri had to go see them. The assassin didn't mind. He was used to a busy schedule and traveling all over town in his old job. Only now he didn't have to creep along the rooftops or slink through the sewers. It felt good to walk openly down the street for a change.  
  
Entreri was not a social butterfly. He didn't have friends and didn't play well with others, but so far there had been one thing that he had sorely missed from his days back in Calimport: competition. His rivalry with every other rogue in Calimport – and in fact the whole Sword Coast – was what had driven him to greatness.  
  
So far his days as a businessman had been spent alone, making his own decisions, and ignoring the businesses around him. Now he understood that in order to play the game correctly, you had to reach out to others and get involved. He didn't need to make friends. He didn't need to socialize, but he did need to work with others. And the time he had spent at the party last night had been surprisingly enjoyable.  
  
He still had an edge though. He had been quoted prices last night that he had no intention of paying. When he entered negotiations with a company, he was not going to be friendly. He had perfected his deadly stare over the past 30 years, and he wasn't going to let it go to waste now. At the same time, he wanted to make sure that everyone that signed on with his business profited from it. If word got around that doing business with him was a sure way to bankrupt your company, then he would be out on his own.  
  
Toole had been right. There was enough financial elbow-room and growth potential in this city for everyone to do well. So while Entreri was interested in seeing everyone succeed, he planed on staying a little ahead of the curve.  
  
All the planning was great, but before he could get started, Entreri needed to take care of matters at home first.  
  
"Good morning sir," Dorin, Entreri's foreman, greeted him as he walked into the office. "We have a problem."  
  
Entreri listened patiently as Dorin explained. Allen and Chancey hadn't shown up this morning. They were probably Entreri's two best employees. They were respectable men who had been cheated out of business down south and had then been forced to move to the north. The only reason Entreri had not promoted one of them to foreman was because he knew in a few months, once they had earned enough money, they would be heading back south to try again.  
  
Dorin had already sent Entreri's messenger boy to the men's homes to see why they hadn't shown up. As the two men waited for the youth's return, Entreri tried to think of how to salvage this situation should the news be worst case. Allen and Chancey were replaceable, and Entreri had realized they would have to be if they left, but the few men he was grooming to take their place, weren't nearly ready yet. Entreri would have to hire someone else.  
  
A few minutes later, Sam, the runner, came back to say he had found both men lying dead in their homes, but the boy didn't know what had killed them. "It was very strange, sir," he reported. "They didn't have any knife wounds or blood or anything on them. Nothing was broken or anything like that. It was just like they fell over dead."  
  
Entreri thought in silence for a while. His two best men had just died mysteriously. Was he under attack from someone? This was obviously no coincidence. He glanced at his pocket watch. He had four hours to straighten this whole thing out before he needed to be at Edgar's Metal Shop for his first meeting of the day.  
  
"I have to go look at this," he told Dorin. The foreman nodded. "You need to find someone to fill in for them till we can sort this out."  
  
With that, Entreri followed Sam out of his office. He didn't know where his men lived, so the boy led him quickly through the dirty streets of the northern neighborhoods. Fifteen minutes later they were looking at Allen.  
  
The man was as the boy had said, dead without any sign of violence. Entreri really did not like this. This was magic or something similar, and it was aimed at him. Someone had observed his business long enough to figure out the two most prominent, yet vulnerable men in his business and then had taken them out without leaving a trace.  
  
No, Entreri thought, no one leaves without a trace. He walked over to the body to get a closer look. It didn't take long. Two pinpricks were visible on his neck. A vampire. There was a vampire loose in the city, and for some reason he was picking on Entreri. Or was he?  
  
What if the vampire had just gotten sick of feeding on drunks and prostitutes? Only a creature that wanted to be discovered would feed in the south, so if they wanted a good meal, Entreri's restaurant was the most logical place. And if they were looking for the two best men, Allen and Chancey were on the short list.  
  
Entreri stood slowly. Maybe this was a chance encounter.  
  
Sam asked if he wanted to see the other body too, but Entreri shook his head. He already knew what he was going to find. Hunting down a vampire was going to clog up his schedule considerably. He thought about bringing John into the hunt but not for long. The captain was a capable enough fighter, but he had no experience with vampires, and Entreri didn't need a novice to mess things up for him. If his leads dried up, he might turn to the captain for information, but he would try it on his own for now.  
  
Back at the office, Entreri filled Dorin in on the situation and then had a few questions for the foreman, but he answered them before Entreri had a chance to ask.  
  
"Oh, and another thing," he said after the bad news, "there was a man here last night looking for you. He was a strange fellow with an odd accent. He said he was looking for the owner, but he didn't know your name. He didn't give his name, but said he would come back."  
  
"Did he eat anything?" Entreri asked, hoping for his first lead.  
  
"He had a glass of wine."  
  
"Did he consume any food?" Entreri rephrased his question, adding an impatient tone to his voice.  
  
Dorin shook his head. "Not that I saw. He had a glass of wine, sat there for half an hour, and left. Where you expecting someone?"  
  
Entreri shook his head. "No, but that is usually when they tend to show up."  
  
"Who?"  
  
Entreri thought about explaining things to him, but there was no point in it. Dorin, like the rest of the people in this city, did not understand that there was a supernatural force awakening in their land. Magic was resurfacing. Evil was waking up. Things would get very interesting in the next few years. The people would not understand any explanation. Instead, they were going to have to see it for themselves.  
  
Entreri ignored the question and got down to business. The two of them spent a full hour discussing their options for filling the two vacated positions and what decisions needed to be made while Entreri was away to his meetings. Things had suddenly gotten a lot more complicated. This was not going to be a good day.

* * *

Entreri waited at the bar, his eyes intent on the door to his restaurant. It had been a bad day.  
  
After the excitement of the morning, he had barely made the meetings he had to go to. They had gone poorly. Two of them fell through, and the third ended with Entreri signing a contract for much more than he had anticipated. His mind was on other things, and he couldn't focus.  
  
Entreri realized he had a long way to go before he could claim his current venture a success. His problems were not unique. Problems arose all the time in the business world. Sure, vampire attacks were not common, but there were a lot more mundane things that happened. Fire, weather, competition, employee strikes, bad publicity, and many other things happened to businesses all the time. The successful men handled them efficiently and kept going. Entreri had not done a good job of that today. He wasn't trained for that.  
  
There was one thing was trained for. It was something he was very well equipped to handle. It was something in which he had all the confidence in the world. He sat at the bar, waiting for the vampire to show up.  
  
Alececarr walked into The Dragon's Lair shortly after sunset. Entreri spotted him right away. Even without the description he had gotten from Dorin or knowledge that this man was a vampire, Entreri hoped he would have picked him out immediately. He had been away from Calimport for a long time, and there had not been much need of his skills. But the assassin had to believe that it would be a long time, if ever, before his instincts deteriorated enough to let a man like this walk by without every alarm going off in his head. The sensation that this vampire produced reminded him of the strange man from last night's party, but this creature was far more powerful. Entreri started to play with the idea that the man from last night was a vampire. That would explain a lot and would- Entreri shook his head. He could worry about that later.  
  
Alececarr took the same seat he had last night, and Entreri moved to serve him before the waiter in the area had the chance. He moved as unassumingly as possible, but just like Entreri had spotted him immediately, Alececarr also knew a man of power when he saw one. He could not know of Entreri's skill or past, but he was obviously one to be reckoned with. If he was the owner, to turn him would be an incredible asset.  
  
"Good evening, sir," Entreri said, a bottle of red wine in his hand. Without asking he poured a glass and placed it before the vampire.  
  
"Thank you," Alececarr replied, reaching for the glass and sipping it slowly. "Would you be the owner of this fine establishment?"  
  
Entreri nodded. "I am. My name is Artemis Entreri. Can I get you anything?"  
  
"A menu is all," he said, "and perhaps your company at this table, if you are not too busy. My name is Alec."  
  
"Of course," Entreri replied and motioned to a waiter he had spoken with earlier. He took a seat at the table. "What brings you to my restaurant this evening?"  
  
"A business proposal," Alececarr replied, taking another sip of wine. "I want to buy your restaurant."  
  
Entreri didn't blink. This was actually good news. It meant this vampire was still looking for a home in the city. He was not established and likely did not have many followers yet. "I don't remember putting it up for sale."  
  
Alecearr smiled back at him. "I'm quite confident I could make you an offer you can't refuse. If we could move to your office, or somewhere more private, I could show you."  
  
Entreri could feel the spell of the vampire coming over him, but he shrugged it off easily. He would not follow this creature into a dark room like a puppy dog. "We can talk here," Entreri replied. "No one will be listening to us. Besides, I don't like to negotiate on an empty stomach."  
  
The waiter Entreri had called came by with the menu and handed it to his employer. Entreri took a brief look at the menu before he passed it across the table. "I'm sure you'll find that we have the best selection in the north."  
  
Alececarr put on a fake smile and took the menu. "I'm sure you do." He wasn't hungry. At least not for the type of food served in this restaurant. He looked at the menu anyway. His fake smile turned to one of confusion. "This doesn't appear to be a menu," he said, looking up at Entreri. "This looks like an employee listing."  
  
"Yes," Entreri agreed. "If I may be so bold as to make a recommendation, Geoff has kept himself in excellent shape, and I can see that he is loosing a lot of weight. He drinks a bit too much beer, but most of them do, I'm afraid. Though Gene has been sampling our wines lately, and has restricted his diet to vegetables and fish. You are probably looking for someone who eats more red meat. If that's the case, I recommend that you-"  
  
"Excuse me," Alececarr tried to appear appalled, even though his mouth had begun to water, "are you suggesting that I eat your employees?"  
  
"You are a vampire," Entreri replied matter-of-factly, "I thought it would only be hospitable to offer you something you like. Though, you might want to cross off the top two people on that list. I believe you ate them last night."  
  
Alececarr tried to look insulted. "How dare you! What in all the realms would possess you to say such things?"  
  
"Your hand does not make a reflection in your wine glass," the assassin said plainly.  
  
Alececarr picked up his wine glass and looked at it. He could see the fine bubbles filtering their way through the deep red liquid, but that was all he could see. He put the glass down. "Yes, I suppose you are right." All acting was over at this point, and both men were poised for action.  
  
"Do you still want to go somewhere so we can discuss the sale of this restaurant?" Entreri asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Perhaps we can 'negotiate' outside," Entreri offered.  
  
"That seems suitable to me. We wouldn't want to interrupt your customers."  
  
Entreri stood slowly and deliberately, his jacket pulled aside so his hand could rest visibly on the pommel of his frost blade. "After you."  
  
Alececarr took another long sip of the wine before getting up and moving to the door. He didn't have any trouble placing this man to his back. He had met few mortals who could challenge him in combat, and they had all been elves. He stepped quickly through the door to the outside, and it swung back shut before Entreri got there.  
  
The assassin pushed the door open and stopped. The boardwalk in front of his restaurant was empty. He took a deep breath, pulled Cicle from its sheath, and stepped through the door. He paused for a moment, and then dove forward off the boardwalk, somersaulted to his back, and raised his weapon.  
  
Alececarr was descending from the roof, slashing his claws back and forth viciously. At the last second, Entreri realized the vampire was willing to take a hit in order to score half a dozen on the assassin. He swept his blade to the side at the last second, rolling out of the way.  
  
The vampire avoided the block and landed just to the right of where his target had been. Entreri had rolled to the left and came up fast, just faster than Alececarr. Entreri drew his dagger as well and created a steel shield in front of him. The vampire tested the barrier for a few seconds and almost lost a finger. He decided to change strategies.  
  
The vampire leaped into the air over Entreri, and the assassin reacted quickly, stabbing out behind him, and then dropping into a crouch, turning, and slicing Cicle at waist height. Alececarr wasn't there.  
  
Entreri paused just long enough for his enemy to finally land, lash out with a claw, and then take to the air again. Entreri watched, not trying to guess again, but this time it was quick, the vampire landing right back where he had been, kicking out at the assassin's head. Entreri rolled to the side, swiping out at the offered leg, but he was gone again.  
  
A flicker of movement to his side had him swiping at air, then back to his other side. Alececarr landed only long enough to laugh and then jumped again. Entreri was getting sick of this quickly. Entreri faked in one direction and then stabbed out with each weapon in opposite directions. He finally guessed right. The vampire came down on Entreri's left, and the dagger bit hard.  
  
Alececarr didn't seem to mind, and pulled on Entreri's left arm with the dagger still in his side, spinning him around, and bringing his neck into range. Entreri used the momentum of the spin, to bring Cicle in fast. The vampire was too close and inside the blade of the weapon, but as Alececarr barred his teeth at Entreri's neck, the rapier's hilt came crashing into the demon's face.  
  
Alececarr stumbled backward, and Entreri pulled away, just then realizing that his dagger had been in flesh the whole time. He had felt no surge of energy and then ridiculed himself for even wearing the weapon tonight. How was a vampiric blade going to work on a vampire? There was no life to suck from an undead creature.  
  
He sheathed the dagger and pulled his dirk. He wasn't as used to fighting with two long weapons as Drizzt, but he was more than capable. As Alececarr's hand came back down from feeling the wound on his face that Entreri had just given him, his eyes stared death at Entreri. For the first time in a long time, the assassin felt out matched. The vampire was stronger, faster, and had several more centuries of experience. Entreri could deal with the strength; he had fought against countless enemies that had been stronger than him, but he was used to being quicker than his opponent. He had to take speed out of the equation.  
  
The boardwalk in front of his restaurant continued to the edge of the lake and turned into a pier that led to the entrance of his shipyard. Entreri turned and ran down the pier.  
  
"You won't escape that way," the vampire called to him. He tensed his legs and leaped after the assassin. The pier was well lit, and Entreri saw the shadow at his feet, pulled up short at the last second, and then dove forward a second later as Alececarr came down in front of him. The vampire ducked, and Entreri flew over him, rolling back to his feet and turning to meet his enemy.  
  
Entreri's blades were swirling again, but much harder to dodge now with each weapon almost three feet in length. Alececarr was up to the task, seeing each move almost before it happened, and still having time to get out of the way of the ones he didn't see coming. Entreri was just warming up.  
  
The assassin lunged to the left, forcing Alececarr to hop to the right, and Entreri filled the void. Now the two fighters squared off on the narrow pier perpendicular to its length. Predictably, the vampire rushed, trying to bowl Entreri off the wooden planks and into the water. Only the fact that Entreri had set this up allowed him to get out of the way of the lightening fast charge. Even then, he felt a claw scrape against his chest, but his dirk did likewise against Alececarr's thigh.  
  
Entreri turned to see the vampire smiling at him. He held the dagger. Entreri clutched at his side where he had sheathed it, already knowing it wouldn't be there. The swipe against his chest had not been random. Entreri just realized that the vampire might be playing with him. He didn't like it. He came on with renewed fervor, and Alececarr met him.  
  
It was two blades against one. A dirk and a rapier against a foot- long dagger. Statistically the dagger didn't have a chance. Still, it kept up. Entreri had never seen anything like it, and would have loved to just watch, but he was too involved to appreciate it fully. His strikes came faster than he had thought himself possible and truly wished that Drizzt could be on the receiving end, for he felt not even the drow could keep up. Yet here this vampire was keeping pace with just one blade.  
  
Entreri did not discourage, instead he increased his rhythm, hacking and slashing from every angle. He had the creature playing his game. This was Entreri's strength, and if he did not find the vampire's weakness here, then he would not find it. It was there. It was a hitch in his motion, a movement that fought against natural momentum. His blocks did not always flow into one another. It was the result of someone relying on their strength and speed and not caring about technique.  
  
It wasn't that Alececarr was a novice, far from it. He had fought against some of the realms most powerful fighters including humans, dwarves, and elves. He had seen every style and had emulated the ones he liked. But like an elementary school teacher, Alececarr never found the need to elevate his level of knowledge, because to him, he was dealing with children. Mortals did not posses enough skill to overcome his strength and speed. Or so he thought.  
  
It took a while for Entreri to see the hitch, but only a moment to expose it. It was just a matter of making him break rhythm twice in a row in opposite directions, his arm went up, then down, out and then almost back in, but Entreri's dirk kept it out as Cicle plunged into his chest. The move was done so perfectly in rhythm that to any observers (there were a few) it would have looked too easy, or as if the two fighters had rehearsed the move over and over.  
  
Alececarr cried out. It was the cry of someone who had thought himself a god and realized it wasn't true. The dirk and dagger were still locked in a block, and the Vampire heaved his arm around, throwing Entreri back. The assassin flew 20 feet, landing hard on his back, his dirk flying from his hand and skittering backwards on the pier. He didn't go after it right away but watched instead.  
  
Alececarr stared at the frost blade in his chest with a mixture of pain and awe. He had been bested! It hadn't been fair, but that had never mattered before. He had always won. It didn't matter the odds he faced or the skill of his opponent. He always won.  
  
While Alececarr contemplated the impossible that had just happened, Entreri counted the seconds the blade stayed in the vampire's chest, waiting for the crackling sound that would signify the freezing of his foe. It never came.  
  
As Alececarr slowly pulled the rapier from his chest, screaming as he did, Entreri realized his second mistake of the night. Just like the vampire had no life for his dagger to steal, likewise he had no body heat for his frost blade to steal. And Cicle only stuck to living flesh.  
  
Still, the wound he had given to the vampire, while not lethal to an undead creature, would slow him considerably. Entreri had found the hole in his technique at full speed; he could easily find it at half speed. But as Alececarr slowly walked toward him, the dagger in one hand, and Cicle in the other, the assassin realized that while he could beat the vampire, he would need a weapon to do it.  
  
Entreri scrambled to his feet and turned to race up the pier. His dirk glinted in the moonlight. It was only 15 feet away, then 10, then – a shadow passed over him. Entreri dove, his hand closed on the handle, and Alececarr's foot came down on the blade. Entreri should have let go, but he tugged stubbornly as the vampire's other foot kicked him under the chin. He flew almost back to where he had started.  
  
When he turned to look back now, Alececarr stood between him and his dirk. Entreri stood slowly, no weapon in either hand to meet the vampire, who held the two most powerful weapons south of the great range. The assassin still felt he had a chance. Alececarr attacked, and Entreri could immediately see that if he had a weapon, any weapon, he could pick this creature apart. He didn't and he was reduced to dodging.  
  
The dance didn't last long, as Alececarr grew frustrated and threw the dagger at the elusive assassin. It missed and thunked into the pier behind him. The vampire hadn't missed as much as he just wanted to free one of his hands. As Entreri turned to chase after his weapon, the stronger fighter grabbed at the human's belt, stopping him short and hauling him back in.  
  
Entreri braced to feel Cicle in between his shoulder blades, but as he felt his belt rip, he realized the vampire was after something else: Cicle's sheath. As his belt came off, Entreri turned to grapple with the vampire, but he elbowed Entreri in the head, sending the weaker man staggering back. Alececarr smiled as he swung the frost blade at Entreri's head, but he was staggering and tripped off the edge of the pier, the rapier passing just over his head as Entreri splashed down in the water.  
  
The two fighters looked at each other for a few moments. Alececarr still grimacing from his wound and Entreri treading water. The vampire had stripped the assassin of his weapons and had him floating in the lake, but somehow, the ancient creature still felt like he had lost. If Entreri hadn't lost his dirk, Alececarr would probably be a pile of dust. He was over 1,000 years old and the idea that he had almost lost to a human brought great concern to his psyche. For that reason he left Entreri there, gathered the weapons, ran off the pier, and into the small crowd. No one tried to stop him.  
  
Entreri couldn't follow. His head still spun from the elbow, and it would take him a full minute to get out of the water. By then Alececarr would be long gone. Entreri felt beaten. He had lost all his weapons and a good deal of his pride. He knew he had made stupid mistakes, over- estimating the strength of his weapons against a very powerful foe. He would not make that mistake again, but he also knew that Alec, as he had called himself, would be very wary of the assassin, and had a huge advantage with Cicle and the dagger.  
  
As Entreri swam over to the dock and pulled himself up onto the pier, he thought about what he could do now. He needed to get his weapons back. That wasn't even a question. He just needed to know how. He couldn't wait for the vampire to come back to him. Alec would wait until he had a host of minions and attack Entreri on his terms.  
  
No, Entreri had to bring the fight to him. He needed to know where he was staying during the day. He needed to know how big his army was. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed John's help. The captain would know if there had been any weird deaths or missing person reports. John would also be able to get him a few serviceable weapons until he could get his back.  
  
Right now Entreri was tired. Alec wouldn't come for him tonight. That wound would need a night or two and several feedings before it healed fully. Entreri walked down the pier to his shipyard, ignored the looks of those who had gathered (most of whom were his employees), went up the stairs to his office, and then to the back room where he slept. He'd pay John a visit in the morning.

* * *

Christine looked at the clock on her nightstand and then back out the window. He had not come back tonight. It was 2 am and she couldn't keep her eyes open anymore. She had been trying to think of other things all day, but she couldn't concentrate. She had to leave work early and skipped dinner. She wasn't hungry.  
  
She had heard about the "Can't eat, can't sleep, madly in love" symptoms before, but that wasn't her. Was it? She didn't love this man. Did she? He was playing her, and she knew it, and she didn't really care. When you played keep away from a child, they might scream and yell at you, knowing you are making fun of them, but for some reason, they keep playing.  
  
In Choraston where she had gone to school she had tasted chocolate for the first time. It had been like nothing she had ever had before. When she had asked what was in it, halfway through her fourth piece, she stopped.  
  
If you ate chocolate all day long, you would die. She enjoyed being healthy, she liked her figure, she didn't want any skin problems, but the chocolate was so good. Was she in love with the chocolate, obviously not, but she craved it in a way she couldn't explain, despite the fact that she knew it was bad for her.  
  
Was this stranger bad for her? She knew he was not a nice, simple, hardworking young man like she had been looking for. And thinking of him all day long, like eating chocolate all the time, was destroying her life, but was that his fault? She was going through withdrawal, if he was here, would she be able to focus?  
  
She shook her head. In the few instances when he had been close her heart had skipped and her breath had faltered. No, to have him close would drive her even more insane. Still, there was something about him that tugged at her. She desired him on an unconscious level. Chocolate in small doses wouldn't kill you. He couldn't be all bad, was he?  
  
Christine shook her head in frustration. She didn't know what to think. All she knew was that it was 2:15 and she needed to go to bed. As she turned away from the window, a bird called outside, and she spun back around. Was that him, was he coming? She didn't see him. She looked back at the clock. It was only 2:15; she could wait a little while longer.

* * *

The Ruddy Mary did good business. It was owned by Edward and Steven Ruddy, men who could have done anything they wanted, but decided to keep the restaurant their mother had opened 50 years ago, back when there hadn't been a difference between the northern and southern halves of Garrilport. At least not a very big difference. It had never been an upscale restaurant, and its clientele today was a far cry from its patronage from 50 years ago, but it was one of the nicer places in the north.  
  
Ed and Steve were able to keep the ruffians out of their tavern for the most part, and soon it was pretty clear that if you wanted to spend the night drinking and fighting, there were better places to do it than at the Ruddy Mary. The two brothers never started the fights, but they always finished them.  
  
In the past few days, the brothers had been even more wary of their customers than before. A cook and a barmaid had been killed in the storeroom four nights ago, and they were at a loss as to what had happened. The tavern's name was an obvious reference to the popular drink and the fact that their mother's name had been Mary, but the two brothers had been proud to keep the "bloody" aspect of most of the other northern taverns out of their business.  
  
True to form, the two dead women had not had a drop of blood on them. The barmaid had been mostly dressed, so rape did not seem likely. Neither woman had any money on them, and nothing was missing from the storeroom. The only thing they found were small bite marks on the women's necks. Had their blood been sucked out? Was there some strange animal roaming the streets? Or was someone playing an awful joke on them?  
  
Whatever the case, the brothers were now very careful about who they let into their tavern. So when Alececarr came stumbling in, a vicious wound on his chest, clutching a dagger in one hand, both brothers acted immediately. They raced up to the injured visitor, and quickly carried him out of the building.  
  
"You don't want to go in there," Steve said. "This isn't the right place for you."  
  
"We don't want your trouble," Ed continued. "You take your problems elsewhere."  
  
Alececarr slumped into Ed's arms. "I just need-"  
  
"You just need to keep on moving," Ed cut him off, hoisting him up a bit so his head was resting on his shoulder. "Just keep on-" Alececarr bit hard into the sturdy man's neck.  
  
Neither brother drank much anymore since the two women had died, and the vampire sucked hungrily, glad for the alcohol free blood. Steve saw what was happening, and quickly put two and two together. The bite marks on the women suddenly made sense, and he moved to pull this creature off his brother.  
  
The dagger in Alececarr's left hand intercepted the attack, striking hard into the big man's gut. Alececarr felt the rush and could barely control himself. He fed off both of the powerful men at the same time, all of his incredible strength returning to him in an instant. With one great heave he threw the men up against the outside wall of their tavern. They were each only half conscious as the vampire walked toward them.  
  
"Your establishment has just come under new ownership. But I have good news for you two," he said as he stepped before them. Both of their eyes were almost closed, and they were slowly sliding down the wall as their bodies went limp. "You get to keep your jobs."  
  
Alececarr slashed his new dagger across his wrists and held them up for the men to drink. They sucked hungrily, as Alececarr threw his head back and laughed.


	6. The Investigation

**Chapter 5  
**"The Investigation"  
  
John looked at the fat, grotesque body realizing it probably hadn't always looked like that. It had been soaking in the river for a couple days at least. A few fish and turtles had decided to take a bite or two, and the insects had found a new home. The skin was pale, whiter than John had seen before, almost as if it were an albino. The flesh was bloated having been soaking in water and lying in direct sunlight. It didn't smell very good either.  
  
It wasn't a pleasant sight, but John had the feeling that before this young woman had taken her ill advised swim, she had been quiet lovely. The idea that the corset that now strangled her midsection had once fit seemed laughable, but also suggested that she had possessed a very attractive figure at one time. Now it looked like the straps on the back were kneading dough.  
  
John had seen enough. "Cut her clothes off and cover her body with a sheet," he said. As his men did as they were told, he stepped away from the scene, wondering for the hundredth time why he did this job.  
  
A man had come to the guardhouse shortly after dawn saying that he and his son had gone south on the river to fish and had found a body. John had come down with them and examined the scene. He didn't get many drownings, and when he did, the body was rarely found. This one seemed to have avoided the swift current in the middle of the river and had stayed close to shore, finally getting caught up among the reeds.  
  
He already had a guess as to who this young woman was. Gregory Traft had come to him yesterday afternoon saying that his daughter Betty was missing. She had not returned from the Toole party two nights ago now. John had obviously been at that party, but he did not recognize this girl. That wasn't surprising with as much as her body had changed in the river and with the fact that John had spent most of that night looking at food and not women. But this was most likely her.  
  
Betty had probably left the party having had too much to drink, went swimming, and drowned. It wasn't common, but it happened. John did not like bringing young girls back to their fathers wrapped in a sheet.  
  
"Sir, there is something else over here you need to see."  
  
John followed one of his men up river a ways to another clearing. There, hanging on a tree was a dress, and on the grass next to the river was a pair of shoes. "Why would she get undressed here?" John's man asked.  
  
"Good question," John replied. There was a small inlet here, where the water was relatively calm. It was actually a very safe place to go swimming, as long as you didn't go too far out into the middle of the river. But the water could have only been four feet deep here. You'd have to be pretty drunk to drown in four feet of water.  
  
The more likely way to drown would be to have ventured too far out and get caught in the current, but if that were the case, then there was almost no way that the body would have washed back to shore only a few hundred feet down river. Now if she had managed to drown in this shallow section, then her body would have slowly moved down river, bouncing off the shore until it became tangled in the reeds.  
  
But this still didn't make sense, because there was a much better swimming hole right on the edge of town that lots of people used. The only reason to come this far south would be for privacy. John knew that there had been a lot of available men at the party. That meant she had probably not come here alone. So either there was another body to be found, or the captain had a potential murder on his hands.  
  
John heard the horse coming a few seconds before one of his men spoke up. "Sir, someone is coming."  
  
The road was a good 100 feet away from the river, so someone had left it and was coming to them. John felt suddenly protective of the scene, realizing that it was a little more complicated than a simple drowning. With that added complication, he wasn't surprised to see who came walking through the trees to meet him.  
  
"Artemis, what brings you this far south so early in the morning?"  
  
"You found a body?" Entreri asked, not bothering with a greeting.  
  
Most would be upset with the intrusion, but Entreri obviously had an agenda here, and since John had no leads, he didn't hide anything. "Yes I did. She is down this way."  
  
Before following the captain, Entreri scanned this clearing, seeing the dress, shoes, and inlet. John figured that the assassin had probably reasoned everything that he had and in just a few quick glances.  
  
"Why the interest in this body?" John asked. "And how did you know it was here?"  
  
"I didn't," Entreri replied, following John through the brush along the shore of the river to the body down stream. "I went to the guard house looking for you. They said you were down here because someone found a body in the river."  
  
"And why were you looking for me?"  
  
"You have another killer loose in the city," Entreri said plainly.  
  
Great, John thought, more fun. "Worse than Drizzit, or whatever his name was?"  
  
Entreri hadn't thought of it like that yet. "Depends," he responded, not sure he knew the answer to the question.  
  
John waited for an explanation, but didn't get one. "So why the concern over this new killer? I thought you didn't care about what happens in this city."  
  
"I don't," Entreri replied humorlessly, "but he killed two of my men two nights ago, and he attacked again last night."  
  
"Well, I don't think this is your man." They walked out of the trees into the second clearing. The men had finished cutting off her clothes and had put a sheet over her. One of them had left to go get a wagon to carry her back to town.  
  
"She was killed two nights ago as well," John continued. "In fact, she was at our party. So if your killer was up by your place, I don't know why he would come back down here to kill her. Besides, it looks like she just drowned."  
  
Entreri didn't reply verbally to that comment, but threw the captain a sarcastic look. John was right; Entreri had gathered all the evidence from the other clearing. Instead of talking, Entreri walked up to the body, squatted next to it, and peeled back the sheet a little bit. The bite mark stood out clearly on the bloated skin.  
  
John watched him, and could now see he was deep in thought. "What is it?" John asked as he walked up beside him.  
  
"You are half right," Entreri started, wondering how much to tell the captain. If he told John everything, then he would have city guards at every street corner. While it might be good for the safety of the city, the vampires wouldn't come out and play, and Entreri would never find them. They would very slowly build their army and not come out until they felt strong enough to overcome anything.  
  
Entreri didn't want to wait that long. He knew there were at least two vampires. If he waited till there were 20, he would never get his weapons back. He needed to flush them out now, and he needed to do it without the "help" of the city guard.  
  
"I am half right?" John prompted, for Entreri had lapsed into several moments of silence.  
  
"This wasn't my killer, at least not directly." Entreri just decided to come out with it. He stood and spoke so that only John could hear. "You have vampires in your city."  
  
"Come again?"  
  
Entreri pointed at the neck of the body. "A vampire did that."  
  
"How do you know it wasn't insects?"  
  
Entreri pulled the sheet further, exposing more of the naked body. "What is wrong with this body?"  
  
John could think of lots of things, but kept his mouth shut.  
  
"When a body gets bloated like this, aren't the veins usually visible through the skin?"  
  
John nodded slowly. That was why the body looked so white. The veins weren't there.  
  
"It's not that the veins aren't there," Entreri continued, practically reading the captain's mind, "but there is no blood in them. A vampire sucks all the blood and life from its victims. Insects don't do that."  
  
"So a vampire is a creature that sucks blood."  
  
"Yes. They appear human. They only come out at night. And they can multiply. When they feed on someone they can leave them for dead, or turn them into a vampire. Once turned, they are more demon than human. They care nothing of their former life and live only to kill and obey the one who turned them. They have supernatural strength and speed and are impervious to normal weapons."  
  
"These things are walking my streets?" John was obviously not happy.  
  
Entreri tried to calm him. "Right now there are two, the one who attacked me, who I believe is the leader, and the one who killed this girl. He was at the party. I know what he looks like."  
  
Entreri could see the wheels turning in John's head as to how he was going to fix this problem and hunt down these creatures. "You have to let me handle this," Entreri said.  
  
"Like hell I do," he replied.  
  
He was about to turn to his men, but Entreri grabbed his arm. "Listen to me!" he said in a harsh whisper. "If your men go up against vampires they will die. Remember what happened with Drizzt?"  
  
"I remember what happened, you sat on your ass and he killed half a dozen of my men."  
  
"Yes, well, I am not sitting on my ass now, and a lot more than half a dozen of your men will die. Look, if you come out in force, the vampires will retreat and stay hidden."  
  
"Good, then they won't be killing anyone."  
  
Entreri shook his head. "Yes they will, only they will be much more careful about it and we won't catch them. They will wait until they have an army and then they will attack.  
  
"Look, right now they are not killing in bunches. They are laying low. I'm guessing they are only feeding in the north. We were supposed to think this girl drowned. And outside of you and me, who else would have seen through this rouse?"  
  
John conceded that point. "But they are still killing, and northerners are people just like anyone else. I don't value life like you do."  
  
"If you do what you want, it will be as if you don't value life at all! Look, you have to trust me on this. I know everything about vampires; you know nothing. You have to let me handle this."  
  
"Why should I trust you? Every time I have come to you asking for help, you have refused. Why are you suddenly so charitable now?"  
  
Entreri took a deep breath. "In the past you have asked me to join in a fight that wasn't mine. You wanted me to risk my life for the sake of your city. I don't have a badge on my lapel. I don't work for the city. I'm not asking you to help me build ships, so why should I help you with your job. This is different. This vampire has already attacked me. By business has been hurt. It will continue to suffer as long as the vampires feed. I will handle this."  
  
John paused in thought, thinking there was more to this than Entreri was letting on. He also wondered if what Entreri said was right. Maybe the assassin was the best way to solve this. He wasn't finished yet. "Remember what happened with the goblins? You walked into that mountain range with an army and you were slaughtered. Then you and I walked in alone, and we killed everything. The solution to everything is not force. I will handle this."  
  
John slowly nodded. "You do realize that if the mayor finds out about this, I will lose my job. And if anything else happens, if any more of my townspeople are killed, I will respond. Finish this quickly."  
  
Entreri nodded, accepting the arrangement. John looked down at Betty. "As far as anyone else is concerned, this girl drowned."  
  
"Thank you," Entreri said.  
  
"Is there anything I can do?" John asked.  
  
Entreri nodded. "You can give me a lead."  
  
"What?" John almost laughed. "I thought you were the one who knew everything about vampires."  
  
"True, but you are the one with your finger on the pulse of the city. Has anything happened in the past week that has seemed odd? Was there anything that when you heard the report you thought to yourself, 'They had to have gotten that wrong?' Think. There had to be something."  
  
John remembered Craig's story quite well. "Yes, there is something."

* * *

John had told the two diggers to take a break for a while so that he and Entreri could have the tunnel to themselves. On the way back to the city, John had told Entreri Craig's story about how a creature and risen from a coffin and bitten Fredrick. Entreri got a brief description from what John could remember of what Fredrick was supposed to look like (he had never met him) and Entreri satisfied his curiosity that it was the same person that was trying to seduce Christine. He tried to get John to remember him from the party, but the captain honestly didn't remember.  
  
The two men walked down the torch lit tunnel with John pointing out any items of interest, such as where the cave in had been, how they had never found the missing wheelbarrows and pick axes, and how there was no trace of any coffin or blood or anything.  
  
Entreri nodded as he heard the facts, looking everything over for himself. He paused halfway into the tunnel looking at the wall. "There is a hole here," he said. He turned and looked to see a matching hole on the opposite wall just beneath the torch. In fact there were holes under each torch proceeding down the tunnel. Each hole was a little lower than the one before.  
  
"The torches had been hung too low," John replied. "I had the men take them out and put them back in at the proper height."  
  
"Why had they been hung to low?" Entreri said, looking closely at each one and measuring the rate of decent of each successive hole.  
  
John paused, realizing that his initial assessment of the situation might have been wrong. "At the time I saw them, I thought it was fatigue. I mean Craig had just told me an unbelievable story, so I figured the men had been half asleep to dream up that kind of tale."  
  
Entreri crouched down, almost putting his cheek on the dirt as he looked down the tunnel and then back up it. He got up quickly. "The torches weren't hung low. Someone raised the floor."  
  
"What? Why?"  
  
Entreri turned to the captain. "You said that the coffin had fallen from the ceiling. That would have left a large rectangular hole in the top of the tunnel. It is quite impossible to lift dirt back to that hole to fill it in, so they instead removed dirt from the ceiling to level it out. The coffin was probably two and a half feet tall, so they removed that from the ceiling gradually tapering it back to normal. The result was that they added that dirt to the floor. The ceiling went up and the floor went up, but the torches never moved.  
  
John nodded, understanding the reasoning clearly. He crouched down too and could just make out the slight slope in the floor. They walked to the last hole in the wall and looked up. "This is where the coffin fell. They reshaped the tunnel to match this height, and since then your men have been digging ahead at this level."  
  
John shook his head, feeling stupid. Entreri decided to throw in an editorial. "You thought Craig was lying, or at least got the story wrong. So you looked for evidence to support your theory. Times are changing. The next time someone comes to you saying they've seen a monster. Believe them."  
  
John nodded, accepting the criticism, knowing that Entreri was right. "Okay, but where is the coffin now? It looks like our vampires sealed themselves inside, but when we dug through the cave in, this is what we found."  
  
"Give me your sword," Entreri said, as he walked back up the tunnel.  
  
John unsheathed it slowly. "Where's yours?" he asked, noticing for the first time that Entreri wasn't wearing a weapon. It wasn't odd for the assassin to walk around town unarmed, but since they were hunting vampires, John would have guessed he would bring along some weapons.  
  
Entreri took the two-handed sword without answering the captain's question. After they had walked back to about where the torches had been moved, Entreri thrust the sword into the dirt wall. The blade went in a foot and a half and stopped. He turned around and thrust into the opposite wall with the same result.  
  
"What are you doing?" John asked. "I mean besides dulling my blade."  
  
"Trying to find out where they hid," he replied.  
  
Entreri kept up the routine, moving up the wall slowly. Finally he found what he was looking for. He thrust forward and lost his balance as the blade sunk into the wall to its hilt. John understood immediately. He whistled up the tunnel and the two workers came running down. John took one of the pickaxes and went to work. Within a minute he had the fake wall down, revealing a dark tunnel beyond.  
  
John looked at Entreri. "Do we go in?"  
  
Entreri nodded. He handed the captain back his sword and traded it for the pickaxe. He then reached for a torch with the other hand and cautiously led the captain down the tunnel. If Alec were here now, he would probably be sleeping. It was daytime, so if this was where they lived, they should both be here. In these tight quarters, Entreri felt he had the advantage. Fredrick would not be a problem, and Alec would be too cautious to engage Entreri when he held a torch.  
  
No one was home. The tunnel led to a small cave. Inside were the two pickaxes and wheelbarrows. There was a large rectangular indentation in the floor where the coffin had been, but other than the tools, the room was empty. Entreri swore. "I guess they found a new home."  
  
There were two tunnels leading out of the room. Down one they could hear water trickling and could tell it led to the sewer. The other one offered no clues. Entreri held the torch high as they made their way down the second passageway. It ended 30 feet later with stone protruding into the tunnel.  
  
"It looks like the foundation of a house," John said. He reached up to the stone tiles and found one of them was loose. "Which house is this? They could get in whenever they wanted?"  
  
"If I had to guess," Entreri replied. "I'd say this is the Toole home. Fredrick has a thing for the daughter."  
  
"What do you mean by that?" John asked, not liking the way it sounded.  
  
"Vampires are known to hunt their prey. They pick out someone, usually someone who has scorned them in their previous life, and they stalk them. They draw it out as long as possible, torturing the poor soul until they finally end it."  
  
"We need to warn Thurston and his daughter about this."  
  
Entreri figured that would be his response. He shook his head. "No, they can't know. We will collapse these tunnels and take the digging equipment back. If you start alerting people to the vampires, everyone will know, and I won't be able to find them. I will protect Thurston's daughter."  
  
"How?" John asked.  
  
Entreri didn't answer right away. Right now Christine Toole was his only link to the vampires. From the sewers, they could get anywhere in the city. They had found a new home and were beginning to build an army, no doubt. Entreri was running out of time. He needed a plan. He needed more information. He needed a lot of things.  
  
"I need some weapons," Entreri told John.  
  
Despite the situation, John managed a smirk. Entreri had fought with this head vampire and had lost his weapons. While much of this man was a mystery, his pride was obvious. He now had even more confidence that Entreri would finish this thing quickly. "I think we have a few extra a the guardhouse."  
  
Entreri nodded and followed John back out of the tunnel and to the guardhouse, a look of determination on his face. It was late morning. He had the rest of the day to put together his plan. He needed to act tonight.


	7. The Research

**Chapter 6**  
"The Research"  
  
Alececarr lay in his coffin in the basement of the Ruddy Mary. With a bit of digging, he, Fredrick, and the Ruddy brothers had been able to connect the sewer to the tavern and then hide the entrance. Alececarr had instructed his growing army to sit tight for now and go about business as usual. He would tell them when it was time to act.  
  
Right now he was meditating.  
  
The body that lay in the coffin had once belonged to a man. He had possessed a life, a family, a soul, and a name. The name had been Elias. None of that could be remembered now. Alececarr was the name of the demon that inhabited him. It was an old demon, and he had not been diluted over time.  
  
Alececarr had inhabited Elias over 1,000 years ago. Even the demon could not remember the exact length of time. The vampire had spawned many others, and they had multiplied, but at the end of every campaign those spawn were killed. Alececarr remained.  
  
Other vampires feed and multiplied over and over, such that the personality of the original demon was lost over time. All that remained was a nameless spirit and access to the abyssal planes that brought power and long life. Those vampires did not commune with their spirits except to understand their hunger and thirst for power. They were therefore reduced to primal animals with little thought or reason put into anything.  
  
Alececarr was refined. He had all the same desires and cravings, but he tempered them with reason and knowledge. He used that now. With his body dormant, he left enough of a presence to sustain it, and went in search of answers.  
  
Other demons and denizens traditionally looked down upon vampires because they were only half-breeds, with no real demonic consciousness. Alececarr was different. He was held in some regard in the lower planes, and when he asked questions, he got answers.  
  
There were no interviews or interrogations. Spirits did not meet face to face for the obvious reason that they lacked heads. Instead Alececarr "floated" his question into the planes. His question was a name: Artemis Entreri. The response did not take long.  
  
He received answers from all corners. Servants of Tempus, Lloth, Mielikki, and several human gods, both good an evil all had something to say about the assassin. Followers of these deities had all met Entreri in battle and all said the same thing. Among humans, there was no one equal in skill or one-on-one combat. If you have a conflict with this man, break it off and leave. Victory was not worth the risk of failure, the second being the far more likely outcome.  
  
Having gotten his answer, Alececarr removed his consciousness from the plane and returned to his body in the realm. The human mind, limited as it was, was far better designed for reasoning since it could only deal with one concept at a time as was bounded by time and space.  
  
What should he do? Alececarr had never run from an enemy before, but the information he had just gotten was not vague in anyway. Entreri should be avoided. More confusing than what to do, though, was the man himself. Why was he here?  
  
While Alececarr had toured very little of the city, he had gotten a lot of information from Fredrick. This was a land without magic. Humans were the only race Fredrick had ever heard of outside of fairy tales. It was information that pleased Alececarr, for it was a land ripe for the taking, but Entreri should not be here. What was the realms most powerful human fighter doing in this small city running a restaurant in the rough section of town?  
  
For a moment Alececarr wondered if there were two Artemis Entreris. It was a possibility for sure, and there almost assuredly was another human named such in the vast population of the realm, but for another of the same name to posses such skill, was not likely. Even if there was another of the same name elsewhere who was more powerful (though it was highly unlikely) Alececarr knew that the man he had fought last night was to be avoided.  
  
However, the vampire would not allow the assassin's presence to deter him from his course of action. One man could not stop his rise to power. What could one man do against an army of vampires? If this was the greatest fighter, the only explanation that made sense for his presence in this worthless city was that he was hiding. He had not seemed young to Alececarr, and the deeds of his past that the spirits had talked about might be a decade old at least. If he was here to retire and hide, for a man such as that must have left behind countless enemies, then the vampire hoped that if he left the human alone, Entreri would return the favor.  
  
Alececarr smiled to himself. This was just a bump in the road. He had found a home, had a growing army, and was in a city that would not be able to repel him. There were no mages or priests to worry about. He now possessed the only magical weapons in the city. Nothing would stop him.

* * *

3rd Moon of Autumn, Day 10, 2035 AC  
  
The demon has killed my sister.  
  
I have been writing these entries as a scribe for the council, to record the events of our village, but since the demon has come into our midst, I have forwarded these writings to a separate journal hoping that after we are gone, someone will read them and learn from our mistakes.  
  
It has become grave indeed. Last night's attack did not go well. We lost 13 of our number. We only recovered six, among them Elaina, my sister. We fear those we could not find were turned. Though their souls be with Ehlonna, we fear their bodies have not yet found rest and won't until the demon can be vanquished. Those we recovered have been put to flame to ensure they will not rise again.  
  
Our numbers have dwindled and we do not think we will survive another assault. The next new moon will assuredly welcome another attack from the creatures, and we have no means of defense. We have sent word to our brothers and sisters from the eastern woods, requesting their aid, but the delay in their response does not bode well.  
  
In the event that a portion of these records is lost, allow me to recount the history of our dealings with the demon. He has no name that we know, only that he is a vampire of such a level that none of our priestly magic has any effect on him or his followers of first or second generation. Further than that we can see some effect, but these are by nature the weaker vampires, and they are losses the demon is willing to take.  
  
Two moons ago, we began to lose a few of our number. This vampire can invade our homes without an invitation, so too can his spawn. We had no defense against such an attack. When we raised arms against them, they retreated to the caves that we dare not enter. After that the attacks tapered, but did not cease. We lost a member of the village every other night, and no amount of guard seemed to stem the flow.  
  
Soon the demon had built an army worthy of a frontal attack against our forces and we took heavy losses. I write now after the third such confrontation. This vampire has so overwhelmed us that we know not what to do. Many have decided to leave, but those who wish to see their loved ones put to rest will not go until the last vampire is reduced to dust.

* * *

Entreri put the scroll down for a moment of contemplation.  
  
He had searched through his dragon treasure many times, each time finding something he had not noticed before. He was yet to find a weapon that suited him better than those he had. A dragon only kept the weapons of the adventures he had slain, and few attacked a dragon with a short sword. There were broad and bastard swords too heavy for Entreri to lift, and there were halberds and spears taller than he was. There were several axes, but they too were too heavy for him to wield comfortably. In the end, he decided to settle with the non-magical weapons John had given him.  
  
The one thing that the treasure did contain that peaked Entreri's interest were dozens and dozens of old tomes that told the history of this land. He was reading such a tome now. The vampire had called himself Alec, and he had found a vampire named Alecearr in a later entry of this tome and had backtracked to the beginning to catch the whole story in context.  
  
The writer of this journal was an elf named Elenain. He was a member of a village in the north woods, probably not far from Karenstoch, which would explain how this journal had found its way into his dragon cave. Elliorn had said there were elves in the area, though this journal far predated her time.  
  
What he had learned so far explained a lot of questions Entreri had. Fredrick had entered the Toole house without an invitation, something vampires were not supposed to be able to do. He was the first spawn that Alececarr had turned, and therefore had much of the same power that his master had. If Fredrick ever turned anyone (assuming he hadn't already) they would be a bit weaker, and so forth.  
  
Homes in the city were not safe. Entreri should tell John, but it would only cause panic and rioting, something that vampires loved. Entreri just knew that he had to formulate a plan quickly. He continued reading.

* * *

3rd Moon of Autumn, Day 14, 2035 AC  
  
Aid has arrived!  
  
Two score elven warriors have arrived from Strilliun in the east. With them they have brought Treeal, a mage who has dabbled in necromancy. Though his dark past brings us caution, he swears allegiance to Ehlonna and is well represented by our reinforcements. Though he no longer practices necromancy, he will use his knowledge to help us. Many fear though, and I am among them, that his plan is as evil as the creatures we face.  
  
Tonight is a new moon and will likely bring an attack from our enemies. We will lose many elves tonight, some will be turned and some not. Treeal wishes to take a few of those we reclaim from the battle field and - Ehlonna forgive us - raise them up again as undead creatures under his control. As undead, he claims that they will be able to mingle with the vampires without detection.  
  
Once inside, they will wait until day and then, while the vampires are sleeping, they will start fires. We know the creatures have wood in their caves, for they have raped the forest outside of their cave, and have likely made furnishings for themselves. They will be driven out of the caves into the sunlight where they will perish.  
  
Many elders do not like this plan, and fear that we will be dishonoring our fallen elves for no gain. For how can a cave burn? Treeal assures that his magic will take care of it. There is talk of oil and burning potions, but I did not understand everything. I only pray to our goddess that things will go well.  
  
3rd moon of Autmun, Day 15, 2035 AC  
  
Victory!  
  
Treeal's plan worked, but at what cost? Our brothers and sisters came screaming out of the cave into the sunlight, their beautiful elvish faces contorted into demonic snarls. They burst into flames one after the other, crumpling into piles of dust until it looked like someone had poured a portion of the desert into our forest. The area they had cleared of trees worked against them, and none of them could find shade. So they each ran in every direction at once, their flaming limbs clawing and grasping for the cover of the trees from which we watched. These had been our friends, our family, our lovers, and now the same sun that brought life to our forest was burning them to ash. I could not bare the sight.  
  
Soon it was over, or so we thought. Smoke billowed out of the cave and we could hear the crackle of the flames inside. Surely nothing else could survive in there. Those who had explored the caves before the arrival of the demon swore there was no way out. Finally the chief vampire emerged. He walked slowly out of the flame and smoke and into the sunlight.  
  
I watched eagerly now, for this was the demon that had started it all. Nothing happened. He squinted into the sun, and his pale skin began to tan, but though his clothes smoked from the fire he had walked through, he did not burn. He raised his arms to the sun and laughed. He then cursed us all using every foul name from the abyss.  
  
We raised our bows, to drive two dozen wooden arrows through his heart, but Treeal stopped us. The mage showed no fear and walked right up to the vampire. He must have been able to exercise some power over the creature, for the vampire was unable to move. The mage placed his hand on the creature's head and announced the name of the demon inside: Alececarr. He declared that the demon was too powerful to be killed here with our weapons.  
  
Argument then broke out that I fear will last several days. It has gotten repetitive so I have left the meeting to update this journal. The vampire's sarcophagus was recovered from the cave, and Alececarr has been placed inside and sealed. Treeal assures us that he will not be able to escape from the inside. He also insists that if we destroy this body, the demon will not die with it. It will escape and be allowed to roam free.  
  
Our village has fought against vampires before, and the elders do not believe him. I believe, as do some of the other younger members of the village, that the elders want to enact vengeance against the creature that stole their families from them. I cannot blame them, but I also see the wisdom in Treeal's counsel. We should not in our foolish revenge, release this demon so he can wreak havoc on another land. It is our duty as elves to protect this land. While this demon is trapped in his body, we must make every effort to destroy it.  
  
I only hope that the elders will see this. I also hope that a way will be found to destroy the demon. Our priestly magic has had no effect on it. I will continue to update this journal until we find an answer.

* * *

Entreri skipped ahead a bit as the elf went into a litany of the elves who had died and included great detail of the ceremonies that were held in their honor. The rest of the story Entreri could almost guess at, but he wanted to make sure he didn't miss anything that might help him.

* * *

4th moon of Winter, Day 9, 2035 AC  
  
We have received word back from our brothers in the south. They have a temple there and their priests would like to see Alececarr. It was discussed that we should ask them to come up to us, but the two trips would take longer than we wished to keep this demon in our woods. Also, it was likely that the southern priests would need their temple to perform the exorcism.  
  
I have been elected to travel south with four others, Treeal included. We will have to traverse the entire continent, but I believe it is the wisest course of action. There is still a contingent within the elders that wishes to kill the vampire here. That is where he killed, so that is where he should be killed. I share some of that sentiment, for I did lose a sister, but we would be dishonoring our vows to nature if we accidentally released this demon on the land.  
  
I am going along on the trip to document it for the village. I will update this journal periodically, for this is how I shall honor those we have lost. I will tell of the last days of Alececarr!

* * *

The next few entries dealt with the farms and towns they stopped at along their route south. It told of the weather, the food, and anything else the verbose elf felt like talking about. Entreri skipped to the last entry.

* * *

2nd moon of Spring, Day 23, 2036 AC  
  
Disaster!  
  
As I had mentioned in my previous entry, it was decided to take the river south. With the spring waters running full, it would be a swift trip, and the temple we sought lay on the river, several hundred miles to the south. We could not know that the rapids would become too much!  
  
The water swallowed the raft we had made. I escaped with my pack, but only Rentwin made it to shore with me. The sarcophagus with Alececarr sealed inside has been lost to the bottom of a raging river. Treeal drowned, and without his magic, we have no way to retrieve the demon.  
  
The heavy stone will likely sink deep into the soft river bottom, and may it be buried, never to found again. Those who read this may wish to recover what was lost, but we urge you not to. Let the demon lay at the bottom of the river forever, he kept our people from finding peace by stealing their bodies so let him never find peace, trapped forever in his stone tomb.  
  
We will head back north to our home. I hope the elders will not make us return to retrieve that which we have lost. Not only will we not find it, but I truly believe that the wisest course of action is to just let it lie. This expedition was cursed from the start.  
  
I will not write of this again.

* * *

Entreri rolled the scroll and replaced it in a chest. That was all the information he could have hoped to find. Alececarr could not be killed by sunlight, though it surly must weaken him. And he was not as flammable as most vampire tended to be. Entreri was encouraged to find that his spawn were susceptible to these things. Stakes and crosses were not mentioned, but Entreri didn't fancy himself using wooden weapons anytime soon.  
  
Now that he had all his information, he still needed a plan. He only had one way to get to Alececarr. He had to go through Christine to get to Fredrick, and then he would go through Fredrick to get to Alececarr. And he had to do it quickly. He expected Alececarr to act now as he had in the past with the elves. He would attack slowly, stealing one or two people at a time. Then, once he had enough for an army, he would attack in waves, not committing himself fully until he was assured victory. This town would be destroyed unless Entreri did something quickly.  
  
Entreri pulled out a piece of parchment and a pen and began to write. He started over several times, wasting a lot of ink and paper until he finally had something he was satisfied with. He rang the bell for his messenger boy to come up to his office, and Sam appeared within seconds.  
  
"Do you know where Thurston Toole lives?" he asked the boy.  
  
Sam nodded.  
  
"Good," he said, handing the message to him. "Bring this to his house. You might get a response right away, if so, bring it back to me, otherwise, wait until they are ready to respond. Go."  
  
The boy ran out of the office and Entreri leaned back and sighed. This was going to be interesting.


	8. The First Date

Author Note: Okay, I seemed to have confused someone as to the type of vampire Alececarr is. Or maybe my whole idea of what a vampire is. I believe a vampire is a demon-possessed corpse. They are undead, and the demon inhabitation gives them strengths, which are well known. When I thought about this, I thought it was odd that I've never read of a vampire whose demon had a name. It was always just a demon force or energy, and the vampire kept most of their personality from when they were living.

I figure that the original vampires all had identifiable demons. Not to get too religious on you, but in the Bible, when Jesus casts out demons, the demons have personalities and some of them are even named. So with vampires, over the ages, the demons had spread their spirits so generously among their spawn that their individual identities were lost, and what ended up being passed was just the demon's spirit.

Alececarr is an original demon and has retained his identity to such an extent that the identity of the human he inhabited was lost instead. I don't know what the precedent is for making a vampire resistant to invitations and sunlight and the like, but I did it just to give Entreri headaches. I might have over stepped my bounds there. But we'll see.

On with the story . . .

* * *

**Chapter 7**  
The First Date

Christine paced in her room. It was midday, and she was still wearing her nightgown. She had called off work for the second day in a row. The dreams last night had not been the same. Before they had been passionate and sensual; now they were nightmares.

He had been lost to her.

It happened in a variety of ways, but the end result had always been that he would never return. He had been killed, lost, rejected, lured away by someone else, and in each case Christine had awoken screaming for him to come back. She couldn't explain it.

Since she had awoken for good, she had convinced herself that she hated him. He was no good. He was chocolate. He was brash and bold and exciting, but he was bad for her. She needed something to get him off her mind. She had tried everything.

Christine fancied herself something of a musician, but after struggling with her harpsichord for half an hour, she gave up. She had tried sewing, but her stitching was off and she couldn't focus. She tried reading, but she imagined him in every story, and she had to stop. Something needed to happen to take her mind off of him.

There was a knock on her door. "Yes?"

"There is a message for you miss."

It was the housemaid. Christine quickly wrapped a robe around herself, not wanting the maid to know she hadn't dressed yet and opened the door. The maid held out a rolled note with a ribbon around the center. "A young boy brought this. His employer asks if you would be kind enough to give a response."

"Thank you, Miriam," Christine answered. She took the note and opened it. She read it three times. When she finally looked up, there was a smile on her face. Miriam returned the smile, knowing that the young woman had locked herself in her room for two days.

"You can tell the boy to tell his employer that I would be delighted to accept his offer."

"I will do so at once," the maid replied, nodding to the lady of the house, and quickly retreating down the hall to the front door.

Christine closed her door and tossed the note on her bed. This would definitely help take her mind off of . . . She stopped herself. She had almost thought of his name. He hadn't given it to her. He had told her she would dream of it herself. Had she? She almost thought of it again but stopped herself. Had he a name in her dreams?

Christine shook her head. No. She would deal with real men only tonight, not fantasies that flew in and out of windows and dreams. She walked over to her dresser where the box with the dress that her father had given her lay. She held the dress up for examination and smiled. This would be a good night.

* * *

The carriage pulled up in front of the Toole house at 6pm sharp. Artemis Entreri stepped out of his new toy and walked boldly up to the front door of the mansion. Christine opened the door before he got there. Entreri stopped on the steps and stared.

The assassin had grown up in Calimport. He had seen prostitutes walking the streets, and when he had gotten older, he had been propositioned several times before the women realized he was not going to let down his guard. He had been in harems and through whorehouses. To say it bluntly, he had seen a lot of skin in his life.

Now before him there was actually very little skin. What he looked at now he had never seen before. He saw true beauty. Christine was young, vibrant, and glowing. She had a smile on her face and a glint in her eyes. Entreri had never seen anything like it. He paused, sorting out his feelings.

Entreri did not desire her, for he felt something like this could never really be taken in the first place. It had to be given, and Christine would never give it to him. Instead, he viewed her as a microcosm for the city. The city was relatively young and full of potential. It had riches that Entreri wanted, but he now realized that he could not take those riches. They had to be given to him.

They would not be given freely though. He would first have to protect this city. Alec wanted to devour Garrilport, Entreri needed to stop that. Likewise, Fredrick wished to devour this young woman. Entreri wasn't one for too much symbolism, but he knew that in order to save the city, he was going to have to start with Christine.

"You look lovely this evening," Entreri said, kneeling on the last step and extending his hand up to her.

She took it gently and stepped forward. "Thank you. And how do you like my dress tonight?"

Entreri looked at her dress, realizing he was being tested. "It does you justice."

She raised her eyebrows at the odd phrasing. "Justice?"

"You wish for me to compare it to the dress you wore when we first met," he replied, leading her down the stairs. "In that respect it is not as glamorous as the other, but it still holds its own allure."

Christine accepted that answer for now, but she still had a few questions for this man. She waited until he had helped her into the carriage and had seated himself from the other side. The driver got under way, and she turned to him. "This dress cost a fortune, or at least it must have for my father bought it, while I had made the other dress myself out of 15 coins worth of fabric. Yet you are to have me believe that you find this dress inferior. You are trying to flatter me."

Then take the flattery and shut up, Entreri thought but wisely didn't say. "I complimented you on your dress the other night before you told me you had made it, yet said nothing of this one until you prompted me. Does not that show my true feelings on the matter?"

Christine smiled at him, letting her suitor know that he had passed the test, but the questions weren't over. "Someone had told you that I had made the first one."

"No one told me."

"But you knew."

Entreri nodded.

"How?"

He took a deep breath. "Your first dress did not have a hem but a lace trim around the bottom, meaning it could not have been lengthened after it was made. You are a tall woman, and in order for that dress to fit you in the torso and be the proper length, it must have been custom made."

"But that still doesn't mean that I made it," she argued.

Entreri was quiet under her gaze. She turned in her seat to look directly at him. "Oh, no. I won't have that. You will tell me how you knew I had made the dress or . . ."

"Or what?" Entreri asked. He could tell she was playing with him and didn't really fear the answer.

"Or I will tell the driver to turn around."

Entreri pretended like he was considering offer, and Christine slapped him playfully on the arm. "Tell me."

"On the left side of your bodice, you missed a seam on your first pass and had to pull the threads to try again. It was a small mistake and barely noticeable, but I do not believe a professional seamstress would have made that mistake."

Christine had a look of humility and amazement on her face. She turned back around and leaned against the seat again. Yes, she had gone over that seam twice, but how had he seen that?

Before she could wrap her mind around this revelation, Entreri continued. "This dress, while more ornately decorated and made out of a finer fabric, does not fit you as well as your first dress. It is tighter around the hips and bodice, and while that might negate the need of a corset, which you aren't wearing, it also skews your natural figure, a figure that is far more attractive that that of the mannequin this dress was designed to fit."

"Uh, thank you, I think," Christine replied, completely blown away by what this man had said. No, he was not just flattering her, he was being more honest and knowledgeable than any man she had ever met. Christine almost wished for the immature boys that came into the fabric shop. While they just said she was gorgeous and stared at her chest, she could at least understand them. She felt that if she asked this man if she was fat, he would actually reply honestly. For a moment that scared her.

But isn't that what she wanted? Her night stalker was a mystery. She couldn't really trust anything he said. This man was completely honest with her. She didn't have to worry about him. That should bring her relief, but for some reason it frightened her as well.

"Was I out of line?" Entreri asked after several moments of silence.

"No," Christine replied quickly. She then relaxed and chuckled. "No, not at all. I just . . . I mean . . . How do you know so much about women's clothing?"

After being so honest with her, Entreri wondered if he should continue. Basadoni had made him study women's fashions when he had been trained. "Men are straight forward," he had said. "If they are going to kill you, they will come at you with a knife in their hand and hatred in their eyes. Women, on the other hand, will lure you with seduction and smiles. They can go to a ball in the finest gown and have ten weapons hidden underneath without anyone knowing. They will flash their eyes and flash their skin at you. They will take you to bed and then kill you in your sleep. If you are going to survive in this city, you will have to learn everything about them."

"I have traveled to different cities and understand fashions," Entreri replied. "I try not to be ignorant of things regardless how little they might apply to my life. One never knows what tomorrow will bring."

"No," Christine agreed, "one never knows." She was happy with this answer and smiled. "So what do you do for a living?"

"I run a ship construction yard and own a restaurant."

"Well," she replied, "I guess that makes the decisions of where to go to dinner an easy one."

"Not exactly," Entreri replied. "My restaurant is next to the ship yard. They are in the northern half of the city."

"Really?" Instead of the prejudice Entreri expected, Christine seemed genuinely intrigued by this. "What is it like up there? Is it really as bad as people say?"

Entreri could see this woman had a wild streak in her. It was kind of a necessity when being courted by a vampire and an assassin at the same time, but he could see it went deeper than that, especially since she didn't know the true identities of either man. She would not turn away from excitement. She wasn't the kind of woman who would refuse to get her hands dirty or do her own work. That was evident enough in the fact that she made her own clothes.

"Yes and no," Entreri answered her question. "Most of the people up there want nothing more than to come south and live like you do. Because of financial reasons, they can't, so they are forced to work like dogs until they get an opportunity. Others have lost hope, and their self-destructive life styles bring the rest of the population down with them."

"So why do you live and work up there?"

"Because that is where the industry is," Entreri replied. "The industry owners are all too happy to offer minimal wages and poor working conditions to their employees as long as they can sell their product down south for an inflated amount. In the process they degrade their most valuable resource, their workers, and find it difficult to churn out a high quality product.

"My ships are the best money can buy and their price reflects that. Once the traders in the south realize that, my business will grow and my competitors will have to offer their workers the same stable lifestyle I do, or continue to let their product suffer and go out of business. It will take a while, but eventually they will realize that the only thing keeping them from living like the southerners do is themselves."

"Very well put," Christine replied. This man had vision. He knew what he was doing and how to do it. He could also see into the future and could be the driving force in rebuilding half the city. If the northern section of town could be reinvented like Entreri said, the potential for Garrilport was unlimited.

Entreri was a far smarter choice than . . . His name was on the tip of her mind and she stopped. No! She wasn't going to think about him tonight. Tonight was her escape from that nightmare of a relationship. Tonight she was with Artemis, a man who would treat her with honesty and respect, something that . . . No! She would not think of his name.

Struggling with herself, Christine didn't say a word until they reached the restaurant, and Entreri appreciated the silence.

* * *

Fredrick found Christine's room empty.

The vampire figured she had just gone to the bathroom or to the kitchen for dinner and waited for her. He sat in the quiet, dark room for 45 minutes. She did not return. Fredrick got up and started walking around the room, looking at her personal items and trying to figure out where she could be.

There was an empty box on the dresser with a dress receipt inside but no dress. Had she gone to another party? Fredrick looked around the room again and noticed a piece of paper on the bed. He walked over, picked up the note, and read it very slowly.

Dear Christine,

If I may be so bold, I would like to request your presence this evening at  
a small dinner party I am having for two. I understand the lateness of this  
request, and if you are otherwise engaged or disinclined to accept my  
invitation, I will understand.

I fear that both of us were otherwise distracted the other night and our brief  
encounters reflected this. I hopped that in a more relaxed environment with  
fewer distractions we might be able to have a conversation that lasted more  
than a few carefully selected words.

I look forward to seeing you this evening, and if your answer is "Yes," then  
I will arrive in front of your home at 6'oclock in the evening.

AE

Fredrick read the note three times. Each time it felt like his body temperature rose another 50 degrees. She was out with another man. It was someone whom she had probably met at the party. He had asked her to dinner, and she had accepted.

Fredrick wanted to tear the note apart, but decided not to destroy the evidence. He wasn't doing a very good job of entrancing his prey. He was obviously new at this game, and now some idiot had stepped in and taken Christine from him. Fredrick smiled. They hadn't taken Christine; they had merely borrowed her for the evening. He was confident she would come back to him, and if this other man posed any type of threat, Fredrick would just have to kill him.

Fredrick remained confident as he sat down in one of the chairs in the corner of the dark room and waited.

* * *

Dinner went by quickly. Entreri took Christine to the nicest restaurant in the south. Entreri ordered for her, confident that she wasn't going to be a picky eater and the discussion was sparse. Entreri could tell she was dealing with a lot of inner turmoil, and it didn't take much of an imagination to figure out why.

Entreri tried to bring up topics about her school and what the southern cities were like. This was something she knew a lot about, and it was information that could help Entreri down the road, but Christine found it hard to focus on anything. She smiled and answered his questions, but her heart wasn't in it.

Entreri paid for the meal, and the two of them got back in the carriage after the valet brought it around. "I'm sorry I'm not much of a conversationalist tonight," she said after a few quiet moments."

"I thought I was supposed to be the shy one," he replied with a grin.

She laughed at that. "It's just that I have a lot of things going on right now in my life, and it is difficult to sort them all out."

Entreri drew back at this. "If I am in any way intruding in your life, please, let me know and I will back off."

"No, no," she said quickly. "It's not that, it's just . . ."

"Is there someone else? Did someone else from the party call on you? I find it hard to believe that I was the only one."

Christine paused. She was about to say "Yes," and then about to say "No," and then just sighed. "I don't know. I'm sorry. You seem very nice, but I am just confused right now."

They were both silent for a few moments. "If you want to take me home now, I will understand."

Entreri shook his head. "No, I want to show you something."

"What?" she asked, but Entreri had leaned out the window to give instruction to his driver.

When he came back she looked at him expectantly, repeating the question with her eyes. He just smiled. "You'll see."

They rode for 10 minutes until the carriage stopped. Entreri opened the door and helped Christine out without saying a word. She stepped out of the carriage and looked around. They were by the river next to the southern portion of the wall that separated the two halves of the city.

It wasn't really a wall, for the city officials didn't want to make it that obvious they were trying to keep the northern half out, but it was a line of brick buildings without gaps between them. Occasionally there was a dead end alleyway in between two buildings, but for the most part, the barrier was well hidden.

"What are we doing here?" Christine asked.

Entreri didn't answer but walked up to the last building before the river and used a key in his pocket to open the door. Christine rushed up to him, casting a look over her shoulder down the dark street. "What are you doing?" she asked in a harsh whisper. "We can't go in there?"

"Sure we can," Entreri responded. "I know the owner."

He opened the door and motioned for Christine to enter first. Something about this whole activity felt criminal. It seemed like they were breaking into a building. Her pulse quickened and for the first time that night she was not thinking about someone else.

Entreri closed the door and locked it behind him. They were in a small, dark foyer with a counter and chairs. Off to one side was a small office and washroom, to the other side, toward the river, was another closed door. Entreri walked to it. Christine didn't ask any more questions but picked up her dress and hurried after him.

The next room was filled with tools. They were the largest wrenches and mallets and crowbars Christine had ever seen. They almost looked like hand tools for giants. She didn't know how anyone could use anything that big.

The next room made her gasp in awe. It was a huge room, long and narrow. She understood they were right next to the river now, and along that wall was the biggest collection of gears she had ever seen. Her university had a clock tower that she had toured, but this was far more than that. None of the gears were moving at the moment but each one was as tall as a man with teeth that could chew apart a horse. They seemed to be stacked on top of each other in a chaotic way, but as her eyes went from one to another, she could almost follow the path of motion.

The room's floor fell away under the gears, and she leaned against a metal railing to pear down into the hole to see how far down it went. It was too dark to see the bottom, but Entreri quickly lit a torch and brought it over to her. The gears went down at least 20 feet.

"This is amazing," she finally said. "I had no idea this was here. I don't even know where we are."

"These are the locks," Entreri replied. "This is the heart of our city. Without this room and the mammoth locks outside, this city would not exist. These make shipments down the river possible. Without them, the gentle river that flows past your house would be a raging rapids half the year, and barely more than a creek the other half."

"How do they work?" she asked.

Entreri smiled, happy that he had made her think about something else. "Follow me." He led her through another door, and they were outside. She gaped again.

The river made a slight bend when it came down the locks such that they were tough to see down river unless you were in the middle of the river. The only way to see them from land was from the side. Since they went down, the view from the lake wasn't very good either.

"It looks like a staircase in the river, but, but, but it's so big."

"It is a staircase," Entreri replied, "only each step is 10 feet tall and over 50 feet wide." He let her stand and soak it in a bit more before continuing. "Follow me, but watch out for the paint."

Christine saw the empty paint buckets and glistening wooden planks and avoided them accordingly, lifting her dress up so she could take careful steps. "They are always painting these things to keep the wood sealed." Entreri explained as he ducked under some scaffolding and moved to the edge of the wooden deck.

Christine followed cautiously, her eyes on the scaffolding, buckets of paint, and other assorted obstacles that littered the wooden deck all while she gathered her dress around her, glad that it wasn't of the ruffled style that many of the girls from the southern cities wore.

It wasn't until she had finished the mini-obstacle course that she realized where Entreri was headed. Her suitor stood at the edge of the deck right next to one of the middle locks. The wooden barrier was massive, 6 feet wide, at least 60 feet long, and who knows how deep since it disappeared into the water. The top of the lock wall had a railing on either side, but Christine shook her head.

"I don't think so."

Entreri pleaded with her. "Please. I promise you will be safe. You have to trust me."

She didn't look convinced, but as Entreri extended his hand, she took it and walked cautiously out onto the narrow wall. Entreri lead her along slowly until they were in the middle of the river standing on the seam between the two huge doors. Christine had been watching her feet the whole trip out, but now Entreri motioned for her to look down river.

She did and smiled. "It's beautiful." The moon and stars were out tonight, and the houses along the river were lit up with their own lights. The reflections danced in the smooth current of the river adding depth to the coastline. "It's like we are standing in the river."

She had sailed on ships south before, but from a ship, the view is not the same. There were so many riggings on a ship, and the hull was so big, that you always knew where you were. Out here, she looked over the railing and could see nothing but water and lights. Plus, on a ship you boarded much further down river and missed seeing the city from this vantage point.

Entreri tapped her on the shoulder and she turned around. The lake was just as spectacular. She was actually looking up at the lake, which was very odd experience in and of itself. The glassy surface was 30 feet above her, but far enough away, that she could still see the buildings that surrounded it.

"How does it work?" she asked again.

"It is a very simple concept," Entreri explained, "but the parts of the machine have to be huge to accomplish it. There are many large pipes connecting each one of the sections that are divided by these walls. Each pipe has a valve. They open the first valve, filling the first section with water until it is the same level as the lake. They then open the massive door and the ship floats into that section. They then close the door behind it and open the second valve, draining the second section into the third section until they are the same level.

"It keeps going like that until the ship reaches the last section and they lower it to the level of the river. The whole system lowers the ship 40 feet, which might not sound like much, but before these locks were here, that forty foot drop over the course of 200 feet would tear apart any ship that crossed it." Entreri thought back to the raft that had carried Alec down this river. Too bad the locks weren't in place back then.

"How do they open the doors though?" Christine asked. "They must weigh thousands of pounds."

"They do," Entreri agreed. "That is what the gear room is for. They tie a team of horses up to a turnstile and use the gears to create a mechanical advantage. It is an incredible sight to see. I've sent several ships down these locks in the past month."

Christine didn't have anything else to say for a while. The idea that this engineering marvel was in her city only a few blocks from her house amazed her. How had she never taken the time to look at it before? She wondered how many other things in this city had escaped her attention. She wondered if Artemis would show them to her.

She took her eyes away from the river for a moment and turned them on the man she was with. His profile was very striking in the moonlight. He had a strong jaw and a gentle mouth. His skin was without a wrinkle or other blemish, but he had to be close to 40. He held himself like a fighter. She had known a few young men who had been boxers down south, and Artemis moved with the same efficient confidence they had. And there was something in his eyes. They were turned away from her now, but she remembered them from dinner. They held a depth that reminded her of the river. The river was a flat surface, but by reflecting the lights above, it gained the depth of the entire sky. Artemis's eyes had held that same depth as if he had seen many lifetimes, and they reflected through his eyes.

Christine thought about reaching up to his face to turn his eyes toward her, but instead looked off in the direction they were pointed. On the northern side of the gear house, a small man was staggering toward the edge of the dock. He would not be able to get to the southern part of the city without a key to pass through the gear house, but he didn't need to in order to heckle them.

"Hello 'der lovers," he cried out to them, obviously drunk. "How's about a little kissy wissy for me to watch." He took a swig from the bottle he was holding. "You are lovely people."

"I'm sorry about this," Entreri whispered. As the man kept jabbering at them, Entreri looked down and saw a small rock about half the size of his palm on the walkway. He picked it up and threw it toward the drunk.

"Hey, man, watch it, I-" he stopped talking as he saw the rock miss him badly and rattle up in the scaffolding a dozen feet above his head. "Ah ha," he laughed. "You couldn't hit a-" but his voice disappeared as a half full bucket of paint fell on his head. He dropped his bottle, breaking it on the deck and yanked the bucket off his head. His face and shoulders were pure white and he spit out a mouth full of paint. Without another word, he tuned and ran.

Christine gasped with her hand over her mouth when she saw the bucket fall and turned to Entreri. He just smirked and shrugged. She burst out laughing. "You tried to do that? But how?"

"I just aimed at the bucket and gravity did the rest," he said casually.

"That was the funniest . . ." but she burst out laughing again.

* * *

Two hours later Entreri walked Christine to her front door. She was still laughing. In fact, after the lock, she had been in a good mood all night without one thought toward her other suitor.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening, Artemis," she said as they stood in the doorway to her house. "I haven't had that much fun in a long time."

"The pleasure was all mine," Entreri bowed slightly.

"When can I see you again?" she asked, being very forward.

"If you are available, there is another section of the city I would like to show you tomorrow."

Christine looked at him curiously. "What should I wear?"

"If you wear a dress, do not make it as fancy as this one."

Christine nodded, understandingly completely. "Then, I wish you a good night, Artemis Entreri."

"An a good night to you Miss Toole." With that, they turned away from each other. Entreri trotted down the short stairway to the circle drive where his carriage was waiting. At the door, he finally let out a sigh he had been holding all night. "I hope this works."

He knew that the only way to beat these vampires was to make them play his game. In order to get them in that situation though, he first needed to play their game. He hoped he was doing it right.

* * *

Christine practically floated up the stairs. It was almost midnight, so she did not meet anyone on her way to her room. Her father had thought about staying up for her, but the whole point of scouting out each man he had invited to the party first was to ensure that if any of them did end up courting his daughter, there would be nothing for him to worry about. Besides, he had to remind himself that she wasn't his little girl anymore.

Christine opened the door to her room and was met with darkness. Familiar with the layout of her room, she easily made her way over to the lamp next to her bed. She lighted it with a match and then reached back to undo her dress. She had asked Miriam to help her into the dress, but she did not want wake the maid now. It was closed in the back with five bows, and it should be far easier to untie them by herself than it would have been the other way around.

Her hand snaked around to her lower back, and she easily undid the bottom bow. Her hand worked its way up slowly, finding the appropriate length of ribbon and pulling gently. It wasn't until there was one left at the top that she had problems. It was the tightest one, and just out of reach.

She readjusted her arms, going over the top of her shoulder instead. "Let me help you," a voice spoke from the shadows behind her, and the bow came suddenly undone.

Christine shrieked, spun around and stepped back suddenly. She bumped her nightstand hard, and as the lamp began to fall, so did her dress. She quickly decided on the dress, clutching at the straps with clenched hands under her chin, hugging her forearms tightly to her chest. The lamp thudded onto a thick rug next her bed. It didn't break, but it went out, casting the room into darkness.

"You," she said breathlessly. The only light came from the bedroom window, the drapes were blown about by a cool night breeze casting eerie shadows across the room, but Fredrick's face seemed to be cast in a soft glow. The light came from his eyes, and those eyes stared into her now.

Though her body was completely covered from the front, the idea that all she had to do was let go of her dress and she would be standing in front of this man in nothing but her britches, brought her extreme discomfort. This man had just broken into her room, frightened her to death, and had been torturing her mind for the past three days, yet something about him made her want to let go.

Just as Entreri had been able to make her feel safe, this man made her scared, but there was some primal urge in her that wanted to be hurt, that needed to be frightened. She fought those urges now and held on to the dress.

"I've been waiting here for you all night, my sweet. Where have you been?"

"I . . . I was out," she replied defensively.

"With whom?"

"Nobody."

Fredrick looked over to her bed, and she followed his glance. In the faint light she could see Entreri's note lying on her bed. She turned back to Fredrick, and he lurched at her. He moved the six feet that had separated them in a heartbeat and clutched fiercely at Christine's arms. She let go of the dress with her hands, but continued to clutch it to her chest.

"What is his name?" Fredrick asked, his eyes three inches from hers.

"Entreri," she squeaked. "Artemis Entreri."

"Who is he?"

"Just some northerner."

"Why?"

"Because you weren't here!" she spat back, finding some hidden courage.

Fredrick laughed in her face. "I am here now, my love. What did you want to do?"

Christine didn't answer. Christine didn't know the answer. She wanted so many things. She wanted to talk, to make love, to lash out at him, to kiss him, to have Entreri burst in and drop a bucket of paint on him. She didn't know what she wanted.

"What do you want to do, my lovely?" he asked again, tugging on her arms. Her dress slipped down a ways, revealing an inch of cleavage before she pulled back.

Fredrick laughed again, seeing the conflicting emotions inside her. Christine missed Entreri. With him, she had been doing the laughing. She didn't like it the other way around. "I don't even know you," she finally replied.

"Don't you though, my dear? Have you not dreamed of me every night? Have you not thought of me every minute of the past days? Even tonight, as your handsome Art led you around town, was not your every thought, your every desire focused on me?" He let her think about that for a while. Though she had escaped his hold on her mind for a couple hours at the end, they seemed a distant memory compared to the constant presence he had had in her mind before.

"What is my name?"

Christine did not answer right away and Fredrick shook her. "What is my name? I know you have dreamed of me each night. Surely you have screamed my name during your dreams. Tell me. What is my name?"

"Domina-" she started to shout, but caught herself. "Dominick," she said in a whisper. "Your name is Dominick."

Fredrick had heard what she had started to say first: Dominate. He smiled broadly. Dominick would do just fine. He suddenly pulled her arms away from her body and hugged her close before the dress could fall even an inch more. His hands caressed her bare skin from her shoulders down to her lower back. He reached around her, his hands feeling under her dress, along her side, and over her hips.

"Don't worry, my love. I will never leave you again."

Christine trembled in his arms, but she did not fight him. He turned her toward the bed and leaned her back away from him, supporting her with his strong arms. He looked upon her perfect skin, illuminated by the moonlight from outside. Her neck was bare, and it throbbed at him, but he fought back the urge, instead taking in the rest of her features. "You are truly the most beautiful creature I have ever seen."

Dominick laid her down on the bed completely, her dress still hanging on barely. "I can not stay with you tonight - not yet - but I will be back tomorrow night, and I shall show you the city like you have never seen before. Now sleep my child." He bent down and kissed her forehead.

With that, the vampire turned and fled the room, disappearing behind the drapes and off the edge of the balcony. Christine lay on her bed underneath her wrinkled dress. She lay there with a thousand emotions running through her. She lay there and wept.


	9. The Double Date

First off, sorry for the delay between posting. I have no excuse except that I'm busy. I'll try to do better, but I can't make promises.

Second, what is going on in the reviews? A flame war has started over nothing. Now, since I've written this story, I can be the one to set the record straight. There is no Baal in this, or any of my stories. When I read the review that talks about Baal, I was pretty sure he got my story confused with another one, and I left it at that. If you guys want to argue about something like my portrayal of Entreri or what you think of Christine or if Alececarr even has a prayer in a fair fight with Entreri, fine, go at it. But arguing about communism or fear or Baal, doesn't make any sense.

Now forget about that and find out how Entreri deals with Dominick.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 8**  
"The Double Date"

The sun was just setting outside as Alececarr came upstairs. He looked over the tavern expectantly and wasn't disappointed. The Ruddy Mary was doing good business tonight. The two brothers had gone about their business as usual. Neither of them had left the tavern much before, so the fact that they were never seen in sunlight now was not noticed. During the day the drapes were pulled on the windows, but there were always lanterns lit, and the place did not suffer for loss of light.

Alececarr was tired of waiting and was prepared to survey the crowd for new recruits when he noticed his first recruit. Dominick (he had informed Alec that he had changed his name – a sign that had shown the old vampire that he was maturing) was sitting at a table by himself instead of mingling with the large female crowd in the tavern like he usually did.

From all outward indications, Dominick's hunt was going well. By his report, Christine was not sleeping well, did not rebuff his advances, and had been the one to give him his new name. Yet Alec could tell there was something wrong with the situation that Dominick did not want to talk about. Last night he had returned in a sour mood. Alececarr was after the city, but he understood that a mature Dominick would greatly aid him in his conquest, and he was not going to deny his spawn the right of the first hunt.

Dominick did not look up as his master sat across from him. He just stared down into his drink, frustrated that since blood no longer pumped to his brain, it was much harder to get drunk. "Explain your problem," Alec said, cutting to the chase.

"Christine was with another man last night," Dominick replied.

"He spent the night in her bedchamber?" Alec asked.

Dominick shook his head, looking up from his drink. "I don't think he's even seen her bed."

"Then what is the problem?"

Dominick didn't know what the problem was. He just knew it didn't sit right with him. "Why is she seeing other men? Shouldn't she be focused on me?"

"She is confused. She doesn't know what she wants. She is rebelling against you, yes, that much is true, but it is not an indication that she isn't also completely taken with you. Is this man a valid rival?"

"I have not seen him," Dominick admitted. "He is a northerner she met at the party."

"I thought you said that the party was for prominent single men in the city. What was a northerner doing there?"

"The same thing I was?" Dominick offered. He did not know.

"You have two choices, you can either win her back by showing her that you are the only one for her, or you can take her back by removing this other man from the picture. Teach her that she is yours, and there is no room for anyone else. Assert yourself and force her to respect you for it." It was pretty clear which avenue Alec wanted his pupil to take.

Dominick smiled broadly. He would kill this man, and he would make Christine watch. Alec could tell the thoughts that were going through his head. "Be careful," he warned. "If this man is one of prominence, you must not create a trail that will bring the city down on us. If you are to kill him, use this." Alec unbuckled the dirk he had taken from Entreri and placed it on the table.

Dominick looked at the weapon still in its sheath, but did not pick it up right away. "I am not skilled with a sword."

"You will not need to be," Alec insisted. Though Cicle was by far the more powerful weapon, this dirk was magically balanced and bladed. "With your strength and speed no one in the city will be able to stand against you. And remember, this suitor is just a businessman. He has likely never picked up a weapon in his life." Alec hesitated then, remembering the businessman had taken this weapon from in the first place, but shook his head. That would be too big of a coincidence.

Dominick picked up the weapon and unsheathed it. He admired the green blade before resheathing it and placing on his side. His face was much brighter than it had been a few moments ago. "Tonight I will take back that which is mine," he said confidently.

Alec wasn't paying any attention anymore though. Instead he was looking over Dominick's shoulder. The younger vampire turned to look. An older couple, maybe 40 years old had just walked in. The man was in good shape, and the woman had kept her figure. "I'm sorry," Alec said, rising from his chair, "but dinner has just arrived."

Dominick understood completely. He was getting hungry too. His dinner wasn't quite ready, though. She was going to take a little bit more seasoning first. He looked toward the door and as it opened for another patron saw that the sun had finally set. He got up, downed the rest of his drink, and left.

* * *

Christine stood in front of the mirror, giving her outfit one last look. She was wearing a riding dress. It hung close to her legs, but had wide pleats that allowed it to expand considerably. It was designed to allow a woman to ride a horse without going sidesaddle yet not show too much leg. Her blouse was modest with a wide neckline, and she wore an open vest over top. It was flattering yet simple.

But was it flattering enough? Christine tugged on the neckline a little, trying to get it to plunge. When that didn't work, she tried buttoning the vest to draw it tight across her chest, but the blouse was longer than the vest, and it looked silly sticking out the bottom. She looked over to her bed where an array of brassieres and corsets lay. Some of them could do some amazing things with a woman's upper body. She had picked them up down south and hadn't used them much.

She looked back at the mirror and sighed in frustration. She didn't know why she was so concerned about her body when her date didn't appear to be. She had gained a knack for following a man's eyes when they looked at her. Over the years she had found it curious, then flattering, and finally degrading. She wanted a man to look her in the face and care about who she was as much as what she looked like. Artemis had done that. She had never once caught him checking her out, save when he picked her up and she asked for his opinion of the dress. So now she was standing in front of the mirror trying to figure out how she could get him to stare at her.

For the first time that day she began to question her commitment to this course of action. Both Artemis and Dominick had told her they would take her out. Without hesitation she had chosen Artemis. But why? If she was standing here in front of the mirror trying to figure out how to make her simple clothes more sexually attractive, then that must be something she wanted. Why not go with the sure thing? Dominick left no doubt in her mind what was foremost on his.

Artemis on the other hand was a mystery. What would a relationship be like with him? Why was he interested in her? Was he getting older and wanted to snag a wife before his looks faded? Was he after her father's inheritance? Was he attracted to her, but just did a really good job of hiding it? Or was this a gentleman's agreement with her father to make sure she didn't get too old without finding a husband? She didn't know.

Christine did know why Dominick was after her, and there was a part of her that appreciated the straightforward nature of it. He had been mysterious at first as to how she knew him and his true identity, but his need for her was never in doubt. In her dreams she enjoyed that need. He was passionate and sensual. If Christine weren't so inquisitive, she would be dressing for him tonight.

But she wasn't. She was dressing for Artemis. And since he wasn't interested in looking at her body, then she would just have to nudge him along a bit. She walked over to the bed, removed the vest and peeled off the shirt. She picked one of the less complicated support pieces and put it on. She walked back to the mirror to check it out.

"I liked you better without it."

Christine spun around, her voice in her throat. Dominick stood behind her grinning lewdly. How had he sneaked up on her? She cast a glance back over her shoulder at the mirror and saw only herself. She looked back and forth between Dominick and his absent reflection, and she went pale. "What are you?"

"I'm your savior," he replied, walking toward her.

Christine backed up until she bumped into her vanity. Dominick didn't stop until he was almost pressing up against her. "You look delicious."

Christine fought against her feelings. Would Artemis say she looked delicious? Or would he turn away in modesty until she was properly dressed? She knew the answer. If she wanted a sexual relationship, here it was. She didn't need to worry about perfume or support wires or white lace or anything like that. Dominick would take her as she was and not require anything more.

His gaze went up and down her body, caressing her skin with his eyes. "As good as you look, you will probably draw too much attention to yourself if you went out like this. You might want to put your shirt back on." He backed away from her, opening a path to her bed.

She quickly scurried over to the bed and put her blouse and vest back on. Before she turned around she got her breathing under control and decided what she was going to do.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked her.

"I'm not going with you," she said as she turned to face him.

"What?" Dominick had watched her get ready from the balcony. He had taken an interest in how she was concerned with her appearance and took it as a good sign of her feelings toward him.

"I'm going out with Artemis."

Dominick's face changed momentarily as anger flashed through him, but he got his features back under control quickly. Christine saw the demonic visage briefly and took an unconscious step back. As he walked toward her slowly, she noticed for the first time that he was wearing a sword.

"He is probably downstairs waiting for me right now," she said quickly. Why had she said that? Did she want a confrontation between the two men? Who did she want to win?

"Look deep inside." Dominick said when he got close. "I can see the struggle inside you. You desire me. I see it in the way you look at me. Your feelings for me are so strong they frighten you, so you fight against them. You don't need to do this."

"I . . . I . . ." she started, but Dominick put a finger on her lips.

"Don't. I understand your struggle. I will not force you to choose between us right now. If you think this other man can satisfy your needs, then go. You and I both know he will not. When you are ready to return to me, I will be waiting for you. Now go."

Christine didn't move. She didn't want to leave anymore. She wanted to stay right here with this man. She wanted his hands on her and she couldn't think of anything else. Dominick saw this in her eyes but did not act. She had chosen the other man, so he would force her to be with him tonight. He was not worried that he would lose her. The look in her eyes told him as much. She would crawl back to him begging forgiveness, and then he would kill this Artemis fellow to make sure he did not bother them anymore.

"Go," he said again, pointing toward her bedroom door. "Your man is waiting for you downstairs."

"I don't . . ." she whimpered.

"You have made your decision," Dominick replied, an edge creeping into his voice. "Now go."

A tear rolled down her cheek. "But-"

"Go!"

Christine turned, opened the door, and ran down the hallway. Dominick smiled to himself. She would come back to him. He was confident of that. Still, he would follow her tonight. He wanted to watch this Artemis. He did not fear him as a rival, but he had taken Christine once, and if he had a way of winning her over, then it would be good for Dominick to learn his methods.

The vampire left out the balcony, climbed over the roof, and watched the front courtyard, waiting to follow.

* * *

Entreri was waiting patiently downstairs. He had not been met at the door this time, and he wasn't sure how to take that. Christine had been eager the night before, and Entreri had thought he had made a good impression on her, but now she was making him wait. Entreri pulled a pocket watch out of his vest and glanced at it. She was ten minutes late so far.

"I'm sorry she's keeping you."

Entreri looked up, startled somewhat. It had been a long time since someone had startled him. It just showed how out of his element he was right now. It was the man of the house.

"I could have someone go tell her you're here," Thurston Toole said.

Entreri shook his head. One of the servants had already offered to do so. Entreri could only think of a couple reasons she would be late. Either she didn't know what to wear, which was a good sign, or Fredrick was bothering her, which increased the chances Entreri would meet him tonight.

"I don't want to rush her," Entreri said.

The father nodded. "What do you want?" he asked. He had tried desperately to stay our of his daughter's social life, now that she had one, relying on reports from his servants as to what she was doing and with whom, but he was still curious.

Entreri was hoping he wouldn't ask that question. The two men were about 10 years apart in age, but Entreri suddenly felt a lot younger, almost as if he were a teenage boy. "I want to show your daughter a good time," he replied, choosing his words carefully. "She seems a very spirited young woman, and I would like to get to know her better."

Toole nodded, but Entreri could see he wanted more. He was fighting between being a protective father who was watching his only daughter spend time in the company of another man or being a father who wanted his daughter to be independent. He wanted to ask what they had done last night. Had he kissed her? Where had he touched her? What did he plan on doing with her tonight? But he didn't. His daughter was an adult now; he would treat her as such. Still . . .

They heard quick footsteps from upstairs. "She knows she's late," Toole said. Sure enough, a few moments, Christine appeared at the top of the stairs. Entreri could see immediately that she had been crying. Her eyes were not that red, but there was a tiny smudge on her make-up. Her father didn't notice. "You've kept Mr. Entreri waiting, dear. That's not a good way to make an impression."

"It's okay," Entreri started, but Christine cut him off.

"Only because he has kept me waiting, Father," she said, a sly tone in her voice. "He's been in this city a year and I've only just met him."

Toole looked startled she would say such a thing, but Entreri produced a chuckle, to let the older man know it was taken as a joke. Entreri really took it as nervous humor. Something had scared her a moment ago. Entreri wasn't so sure that her hurried footsteps upstairs weren't her running away from something rather than running toward something.

"Are you ready to go?" Entreri asked, extending his elbow.

"Yes I am," she said, taking the arm and walking with Entreri toward the front door.

Toole just stood there, watching his daughter go. He wanted to say something. "Don't stay out too late." "Be careful." "Be good." But he didn't say anything. He just stood there watching as his daughter left the house.

There was no carriage waiting for them this time but two fine horses. Entreri had ridden his own horse, and then had asked the Toole's stable boy which one was Christine's. "It's a good thing I wore a riding dress," Christine said. "I wasn't really sure what to wear, but this should work out. You guys have it easy. You always just wear pants, and dark ones at that. You don't even have to worry about colors that much. It's much harder to dress when you're a woman. Where are we going?"

Entreri almost took a step back from her. She hadn't even taken a breath. She had been so quiet last night, obviously thinking about something else. If Entreri was right in his thinking, she was thinking about the same thing now but was trying a little harder to redirect her thoughts.

"We are going west," Entreri answered. "There is a very entertaining place I know of, but it is on the other side of the city and makes for a long walk."

They walked up to the horses. "You got my horse!" she said, a little too excited. "My father bought this horse for me when I was twelve. I was scared to death of it, even though it was just a small thing back then. But he made me ride it and now . . ."

Entreri helped her into the saddle while she kept talking. He kept half an ear to his yammering date, but as they left the courtyard of the mansion, he kept the rest of his senses on the rooftops and alleyways they passed. It didn't take long from him to notice they were being followed.

The ride across town took 10 minutes, and Christine talked for most of it. Entreri encouraged her talkative mood, asking detailed questions and faking intense interest in each topic she brought up. He wanted to take her mind off of Fredrick, but he realized it would have to wait until the got to their destination.

The eastern border of Garrilport was the river. The city didn't exactly have a western border. The expensive real estate with paved streets and sewers tapered into wooden homes on dirt streets and then into shacks. This was where Entreri's home was, though he spent almost all of his time at the shipyard now.

The wall that separated the north from the south also tapered off as it went west. Trees began to outnumber houses and the wall ended in a large building that housed the offices for the city's lumberyard. Anyone from the north that wanted to go south and didn't want to have to walk past the guard house could go around the western edge of the wall, but they would have to walk two miles to the edge of town and then skirt the vast property of the lumberyard for there was a fence enclosing their property. All told it would be a 4-mile trip one-way, and most thieves weren't that ambitious. Plus, the western section of the city, even south of the wall, was not a desirable area, and there were a few satellite guard posts to keep it in check.

Entreri had not been the first business owner to provide a place for his employees to eat. While just about anyone could pound a nail into a board or clean the scales off a fish, it took a special man to fell a tree in a profitable time. If the lumberyard lost men to the rough bars of the north, it would suffer more than most other businesses.

This restaurant was not as upscale as Entreri's, but it was far more entertaining. It was built into the wall along with the offices and there were entrances on both sides of the wall. Entreri dismounted first while Christine, who was suddenly quiet, looked about hesitantly. Though she was raised rich, she was not as stuck up as most who lived on the river. Still, this was the poorest section of the city. What could possibly be out here that would be worthy of a date?

"Please," Entreri said, offering his hand to help her off her horse. "I promise you will be safe. You have to trust me."

It was the same thing he had said when he had led her out onto the lock the previous night. He had been right then, so she took his hand now. Entreri tied up both horses at the empty hitching rail, flipping the boy who stood watch a gold piece. It was more money than he would earn in a week, and Entreri was pretty sure the horses would be there when they were ready to leave.

The first room inside was empty save washrooms to either side and an unmanned podium where a host should have been standing. For once, it was the south that rarely had the money to attend this restaurant this far west, so there was no one to greet them. Entreri had been here before and was not deterred.

Christine could hear what sounded like an angry mob coming from ahead of them. As they drew closer it got louder and louder. Entreri stepped past the podium and pushed open the double doors behind it. Christine followed him and froze. Huge could not describe the size of the room. She had been in smaller concert halls at her university. Granted, this room lacked the elaborate wall decorations and plush seating, but it was no less impressive.

The room opened up below them like an enormous staircase. Each step was a dozen feet wide and arched around the room in a semi circle. The center aisle was clear, as well as secondary aisles spaced equally on either side, while the rest of the room was filled with tables. It was like a vast dinner theater. Men sat everywhere (Christine was one of very few women in attendance) drinking beer and shouting down at the stage below.

The stage was also not what Christine was used to. Instead of a raised platform filled with musicians or play props, there was a large dirt arena filled with horses and armor clad men. Right now two knights were involved in a jousting match. The horses raced toward each other, each knight trying to keep his lance as steady as possible. At the last moment, one knight lunged and the other flinched. The bolder one's lance exploded into the second's chest and flipped him off his horse.

The crowd went crazy, clanging their mugs together in cheers. Half the ale slopped out of the mugs, and then they downed the other half. Bar maids wearing denim skirts, laced up white bodices, and showing enough cleavage to make a priest deny his faith raced around to the tables, refilling the mugs before the next match.

One of the women noticed Entreri standing there and came up to him. "Welcome back Artemis," she said with a toothy smile, each hand holding three mugs. "I believe your regular table is empty. Will you be participating tonight?" she asked, glancing at Christine.

Christine had been looking down at her own chest, trying not to feel inadequate, but looked up at this question. "Participate?"

Entreri shook his head. "No, could we have one of the private tables in the corner."

The maid's smile grew larger. "Of course," she motioned to a few empty tables, "take your pick." With that, she went about her delivery of drinks. The couple moved along the top level of the auditorium to the corner where a few secluded tables sat on a raised step away from the ruckus of the main floor.

Along the way, they dodged two more well-endowed maids loaded down with frothy drinks. Christine's eyes followed each one of them as they bounced past, a frown on her face.

"They stuff their shirts," Entreri said to her, drawing her attention away from the last maid.

"Huh?" she said, turning her attention back to her date.

"The women," he explained, "they take stockings and stuff their blouses to make them look bigger."

"Ahh," Christine said, a light going on in her head as she watched another maid pass. "Clever." Her face changed suddenly. "How do you know?"

Entreri dodged the question and motioned to the arena below. "Look, the next match is starting."

Christine playfully slugged him in the arm, but didn't press the point. They arrived at their table, and Entreri pulled out a chair for her. They both sat on the same side so they could watch the joust below. A maid appeared moments later, plopping a mug down in front of Entreri and then pausing. She had three more mugs, but looked at Christine wondering what she wanted to drink.

The young woman looked around the room, slowly assimilating the mood of the crowd. She looked to the maid and nodded. She got a mug too. The maid then produced two menus from a large pocket in her skirt. "I'll be back in a moment to take your order," she said. "Enjoy the show."

"This place is incredible," Christine commented once the maid had left. "I had no-"

"No idea a place like this was in your city?" Entreri interrupted. It was the same thing she had said about the locks. Christine nodded. "You just need to get out more."

Christine watched the joust below as one of the knights took a shot in the helmet from a lance. "Isn't it a bit dangerous though?"

"No more dangerous than dropping huge trees for a living," Entreri said, momentarily avoiding the question. "No, the lances are blunted and made of pine. No one has ever been seriously hurt."

"What about the food?" she asked.

"The owner's brother runs the cattle yard up north. Any of the beef meals are very good. If you want, I can order for you."

Christine nodded and turned her attention to the arena. The jousts were over, and as the maid came back to their table and received Entreri's order the men below were assembling into to large groups at either side of the dirt stage.

One of the men not wearing any armor climbed onto a short platform at the corner of the stage and began speaking. The rest of the men grew quiet, but the speaker had a big voice and didn't need too much help.

"There is a legend that says this land used to be overrun with all kinds of horrible monsters." Behind him a few costumed performers wearing masks and horns began snarling and jumping around like lunatics.

"These monsters terrorized the small villages and towns for many years." A couple of the maids appeared on stage and the "monsters" chased them around for a while. One of the creatures reached out and grabbed at the back of one of the women's bodices. The thin material ripped, and the maid screamed has her top fell down. She clutched her hands to her chest as she scampered off the stage to the hoots and hollers of the men, but not before Christine caught a brief glimpse of a rolled up pair of stockings.

She turned to Entreri with a disapproving look on her face. Entreri looked as innocent as possible. "What?" he asked, shrugging his shoulders. Christine couldn't keep a straight face and punched him in the shoulder again.

"Finally a few brave men rose up to meet these monsters in battle," the speaker from below continued. A few of the knights came out with their swords and overwhelmed the monsters. They used wooden swords, but Christine winced at the very lifelike action. One of the knights struck down the creature that had torn the shirt off the maid, picked up the white material, smelled it, and walked about in a daze, drawing laughter from the crowd.

"But the monsters were not so easily defeated. They were driven back, but among them there rose a leader." A huge man dressed in a monster costume walked about on stage. "And he led a host of creatures against the brave men who had driven them back." The monsters attacked again with their leader at the head, and the knights fled.

"But the brave knights also had a leader among them. Chorim Amadaian would not see his men be defeated, and so one day, long ago, the two armies met in battle." The narrator stepped down now and the main action began. Almost 4-dozen men screamed and fought on stage, half of them monsters and half knights. It was pure chaos, and the men in the crowd cheered them on.

Entreri had ordered ribs for the two of them, but Christine barely noticed when they arrived. Her eyes were glued to the stage below, following each strike and parry. She cried out when a knight fell, and cheered when each monster hit the dirt.

Soon the crowd of combatants thinned and in the middle of the mayhem, a clearing was created. Chorim Amadaian faced off against the monsters' leader. They swung their weapons to and fro in an impressive (but rehearsed) display, each move coming faster and faster. The battle swayed back and forth, neither fighter gaining an advantage until the monster made a very aggressing attack, knocking the sword out of Chorim's hand and knocking the hero to the dirt.

"No!" Christine cried, suddenly standing. A few other members of the crowd who had not seen this performance before also cried out. The monster stalked around the fallen knight playing up the crowd, and receiving several "Boos" for it.

Finally he stood over the fallen man and swung down to kill him. Chorim rolled to the side at the last second and kicked out at the monster's legs. The creature stumbled, and Chorim hopped to his feet. The monster tried to attack, but the human was too close and he grabbed the hilt of the sword as it came around. The two engaged in an intense battle of strength as they wrestled over the weapon. Chorim won (of course), and his opponent stumbled backwards. The hero spun around completely and struck at the monster's head with the stolen sword. The head of the creature went flying. Despite the apparent death, the crowd cheered loudly. Even Christine was happy to see the head go spinning into the dirt.

After soaking up the glory for a while, Chorim took a deep bow. The fallen monster got up as well, removing the large costume he had worn on his shoulders that had supported the fake head, and took a bow.

"Chorim and his men routed the monsters," the narrator was back on his platform. "For years, Chorim led his men into battle and he was never beaten. He fought against giants and trolls, ogres and goblins and never found his equal. But maybe here, tonight, he might find a challenger to bring him down. Does anyone wish to face the mighty Chorim in battle?"

Alcohol has long been the leading cause of stupidity in men and several in the crowd proved this point by raising their hands. One by one they were led onto the stage, fitted with some safety padding, and given a wooden sword. Christine sat down now and noticed that there was food. The ribs were barbequed and covered in sauce, but for once in her life, she didn't care about making a mess. She picked up the meet with her bare hands and tore into it pausing occasionally to shout at the fighters or to take a drink from her mug.

After the third fighter fell to Chorim, Christine turned to Entreri. "They are all worthless. They aren't going to beat Chorim, are they?"

Entreri shook his head. "I doubt it."

Suddenly a light went on in Christine's eyes. "Could you beat him? When we got here, that maid asked you if you were going to participate tonight. Will you beat him?"

"I don't know," Entreri said cautiously, having planned all this ahead of time. "He looks pretty big."

"Come on," Christine chided, "do it for me."

"If I must," Entreri said, taking one last swig from his mug and wiping his hands on his napkin. "I shall be your champion," he said with false bravado, getting a laugh from his date. The second leading cause for stupidity in men is women.

The last volunteer had just fallen, clutching his right arm in pain, and the speaker was calling for any more "brave souls" who might want to challenge the hero. While there had been many who had wanted to fight originally, watching what had happened to each of the men before them was very sobering. The speaker was just about to give up, when he saw Entreri trotting down the stairs.

"We do have one last challenger. Let's give him a cheer!"

Though Entreri did participate in the show on occasion, he usually tried the joust or entered in the grand melees they had. He avoided one-on-one battles because they didn't give him much of a challenge. Plus, he was a friend of the owner, and he didn't want to ruin the performance by defeating the hero of the show.

The crowd was mostly made of lumberjacks, men with arms as big as Entreri's legs, and they scoffed him as much as they cheered him while he made his way to the stage. Entreri took the wooden sword offered him, but declined the padding. The crowd grew quiet then as they saw Entreri, with no protection, walk up against Chorim, an armor-clad man who stood half a head taller than Entreri and 50 pounds heavier.

"You?" Chorim asked. The "hero" was really Alex Torin, the son of the lumberyard's owner. He knew Entreri quite well. "What are you doing up here, trying to embarrass me?" He spoke so only Entreri would hear.

"I have a lady in the crowd," Entreri said, lifting his sword to the ready. "I won't be too hard on you."

Alex charged with a shout. Instead of sidestepping the charge and tripping the big man to the ground, Entreri met the charge and pushed back. Alex was good, but there were many just in the city guard who could take him down. The reason he never lost was because he only fought against drunks.

Entreri worked him up and down, pushing him beyond his limits. Alex was encumbered by armor, and he struggled to keep up, breathing faster and faster. With just a dull wooden sword, there wasn't too much Entreri could do against his opponent's armor. He wasn't wearing a helmet, but any attack on his head would cause a serious wound. Besides, Entreri wasn't so sure he wanted to defeat this man. It wouldn't be good for business.

Entreri paused in his attacks, giving the knight a huge opening that he didn't miss. He struck back, very little strength left in him, but it put Entreri off balance, and as he stumbled, Alex struck again from the side. Entreri angled his body, and absorbed the blow with his left arm, rolling it up to his shoulder as he struck out with his own sword.

Suddenly both men stopped short, they each held a sword at the other man's neck. They looked at each other briefly, and Entreri offered him a draw. Alex took it. They dropped their weapons and shook hands. The crowd cheered, happy that Entreri had been a worthy challenger and that their hero had remained undefeated.

Entreri found Christine in the crowd and saw her standing tall, cheering as hard as anyone. The assassin's eyes then went to the opposite side of the auditorium. Dominick was seated in the shadows watching Christine with cold eyes. The woman who two hours ago had been willing to give herself to him, now was cheering on another man.

Entreri had watched Dominick enter the building shortly after they had, and had been careful in this battle not to show too much skill, else he would scare off any encounter the vampire might be planning. As Dominick slowly turned his gaze back to Entreri, the assassin was quick to adjust his eyes away, though not before he caught the look of cold hatred. They would meet tonight.

* * *

The rest of the night went smoothly with Entreri and Christine enjoying both the entertainment and the food. An hour went by, and then two. Finally Entreri was able to pry Christine away from the table and the two of them walked out of the auditorium.

The couple left the way they had come in and were met outside by the sound of applause. "Bravo, bravo. That was a good show."

"Dominick!" Christine shrieked. The young woman suddenly clung to Entreri's arm. The assassin's eyes went from the frightened woman to the vampire. She had called him Dominick while John had said the man's name was Fredrick. Vampires often changed their names and Entreri didn't pay too much attention to the discrepancy. Instead he took stock his enemy.

Dominick was leaning against the city wall casually, a familiar dirk hanging from his side. His posture was relaxed, but Entreri could detect a restlessness that this vampire was barely containing. The feeling was directed at both Entreri and Christine, though for entirely different reasons.

Entreri had several priorities in this encounter. Most importantly he wanted to find and kill Alececarr. That would give him his weapons back, which was his second priority. The third was to keep Christine safe. He did not need Thurston Toole as an enemy, especially if he wanted to be on the merchant council some day.

"Go," Entreri shoved Christine away from him and toward her horse. "Ride away from here and don't look back."

"No," Dominick drew his sword and pointed at Christine. The confused woman stood between Entreri and her horse, the eyes of the vampire holding her still. "I want you to watch this. You chose him over me," Dominick switched the sword to Entreri. "I do not know why. I believe you yourself do not know why. You are just rebelling against your heart. Tonight, I will make the decision for you."

Entreri looked at the foe in front of him, as Dominick sent him an evil grin. He was holding the sword wrong, his feet were out of position, and he was too close to the wall. Alececarr had been a trained warrior. He had fought against many skilled opponents and had mimicked their style. Entreri didn't think Dominick had ever held a sword before in his life.

"You have stuck your nose where it does not belong," the vampire said sternly, his attention squarely on Entreri. "I should let you walk away as long as you promise never to come near her again, but I am not feeling charitable."

"I am," Entreri replied. He needed to find Alececarr. If he killed Dominick now, he would be no closer to finding the head vampire than before, and he would have lost his only lead. He needed Dominick to run away. "As long as you promise never to think of Christine again, I shall let you walk away. Drop the sword, turn around, and I will let you live."

Dominick laughed, but it was forced. There was something in Entreri's voice that let the vampire know this was not the first threat he had ever given. Christine heard it too, and she took another step away from Entreri, her eyes shifting back and forth between the two men in front of her.

"You forget which one of us is armed," Dominick said, waggling the sword in front of him.

"I will have that sword in my hand in five seconds and then in your chest in two," Entreri said plainly.

"You are insane," Dominick laughed. "Why I shall have you-"

Entreri exploded forward, and Dominick was on his heels. He swung the dirk in front of him, but Entreri dropped into a crouch, and the blade hit only air until it rudely clanged into the wall. Entreri sprang straight up with tremendous force, the heel of his palm striking the vampire under his chin. Though Dominick was much stronger than he had been, he was no heavier, and he flew backwards into the air.

Entreri grabbed the loosely held sword, as his foe toppled backwards, reversed the grip, and then plunged it down after Dominick's descending chest. The vampire's back hit the packed dirt of the street and the dirk impaled him a second later.

Christine cried out when she saw the violent attack and raced forward. Entreri was backing away from the vampire and raised his left arm to catch the charging woman. "Let me go!" she cried, pounding on the assassin's arm. "You killed him! How could you-"

"AAAHHHHRRR!"

Christine stopped her attack on Entreri and turned toward the sound. Her face went ashen. Dominick was awake and trying to sit up, but the blade secured him to the ground. He grabbed a hold of the pommel, and with another shriek, pulled the dirk out of his chest. He sat up slowly and worked his way to his feet.

His face was a contortion of demonic rage. His eyes were red, his nostrils flared, his brow furrowed, and his fangs were bared. "You will pay for that!" he snarled.

"Go!" Entreri screamed to Christine. "Get on your horse and don't stop till you are home behind locked doors!"

She finally listened. Dominick did not try to stop her. He was focused on Entreri, the pain in his chest fueling his rage. As Christine rode away, the vampire rushed. Despite the massive wound in his chest, he was fast. Entreri was much faster. The blade slashed back and forth, up and down, but Entreri was always ahead of the moves, dodging almost before each attack.

Though there was no technique or rhythm to the attacks, neither were they completely random. There was only so many ways one could flail with a sword, and certain attacks were very common among untrained fighters. Entreri had seen it all before.

In between the dodges, Entreri began to lash out with his own attacks, kneeing Dominick in the gut and slapping him in the face. The vampire grew more enraged, and when he had worked Entreri's back to the wall, he rushed forward, meaning to crush the weaker man. The assassin dropped to a crouch and vaulted the off balanced attacker over him. The strength of the charge was translated into the air, and the vampire flipped upside down and hit the wall vertically. He crashed down onto his head, and lay still for a moment.

Entreri did not wait for him to get up but turned and ripped the dirk from his slackened grip. The loss of the weapon, brought Dominick back from his stunned senses, and he righted himself. Entreri did not let him get his balance, but launched into this own flurry of attacks. The assassin's were far more precise and exact, though they came no closer to hitting his enemy than the vampire's attacks had.

Entreri was not interested in killing this creature, at least not yet. He needed to show him that there was no way he was going to beat Entreri, and that retreat was the only way he was going to survive. It was a retreat that Entreri needed. It was a retreat he intended to follow. It was a retreat that wasn't going to happen.

As Entreri's dirk flew around Dominick, creating a steel cage around the vampire, the overmatched fighter did not ever contemplate retreat. He felt too invincible to think such things. Yes, this human was obviously a better fighter than he was, but that did not change the fact that he was immortal and Entreri was not. All he needed was an opening, and he would feed on this skilled mortal. No matter the odds, he felt like he could not lose.

The closest Entreri came to hitting the vampire was a slash at his waist that cut the dirk's sheath from Dominick's belt. Other than that, the attacks just kept him pinned to the wall. Entreri ended his display suddenly, the dirk nestled under the vampire's chin. "You will not beat me," Entreri said carefully. "You will never beat me. But my fight is not with you. It is with your master. You go and tell Alececarr that this is my city. He is trespassing on my territory and has stolen my possessions. He will return that which is mine and leave this city at once. You tell him this or I will kill every one of his minions."

Dominick sneered at his foe. "My master will never yield to your puny demands. You are the one who is going to die."

Entreri pushed his blade forward another inch so the tip sunk partway into the soft skin under Dominick's chin. "You forget who has the upper hand here."

The vampire grinned broadly. "No I haven't." Dominick's eyes were looking over Entreri's shoulder. The assassin stepped back and turned to see what gave the vampire confidence. Alececarr was standing 30 feet away with two huge vampires on either side of him. Despite his outnumbered situation, Entreri smiled. He recognized the two brutes as the Ruddy brothers. They owned a respectable tavern in the south central portion of the northern half of town. If Entreri did not get what he wanted tonight, he knew where he could start looking tomorrow.

"You are a persistent human," Alececarr said. "I thought you had learned your lesson when I had left you treading water outside your restaurant."

"What can I say?" Entreri offered. "I'm a slow learner." Even from 30 feet, Entreri noticed Alececarr's glowing eyes shift slightly. The assassin turned his dirk, and stabbed out behind him. Dominick had come off the wall and was impaled by the dirk just below his previous wound. The weak vampire stopped his charge and Entreri twisted the blade sharply, making the two wounds one. Dominick fell to the ground writhing in pain. "But I'm getting better," he added as he stepped toward the threesome in front of him.

Alececarr looked at his fallen sire with disregard. "Dominick told me his prey had another suitor, and he had left me enough clues to figure out who it was, but it took me till now to come to the right conclusion. I must be getting old."

"And what do you plan to do about it?" Entreri asked

"Kill you," Alececarr replied. Steve and Ed Ruddy rushed forward. Neither brother was armed, but they both weighed over 250 pounds of muscle, and they found they rarely needed weapons. It wouldn't have mattered anyway.

Entreri stayed between the brothers as they drew near, their large hands open and ready to grab him. At the last second Entreri stepped toward Ed and leaped into the air. Instead of clamping down on his shoulders, Ed grabbed the smaller man by the waist, holding him up just long enough for Entreri to slice his dirk above the big man's shoulders.

While the dead vampire's body still had some constitution to it, Entreri pushed off his chest with his foot, seeming to float through the air to the second brother who was too stunned to do anything but grimace as the blade passed through his neck as well. Entreri alighted on the ground as two heads fell next to him followed by twin pillars of cascading dust. He walked through the cloud, his eyes never leaving Alececarr.

Unlike Dominick, the older vampire knew when it was time to run. He was not convinced that this human was more powerful than he, but here, with no back up, in a meaningless battle, was not the time or place to find out.

"This is not over, Artemis," Alececarr said coldly. Before Entreri got within 10 feet of him, the vampire bolted toward the wall. He ran up and over it as if it were a staircase. Entreri started to give chase, knowing he could climb the wall as well, but not a tenth as quickly as the vampire had, and when he got over, Alececarr would be long gone.

Entreri looked back to where he had left Dominick, but the vampire had slinked off somewhere. It didn't matter. He had a good guess where these vampires were hiding. Tomorrow he would pay a visit to the Ruddy Mary, preferably during the day.

Entreri retrieved the sheath for his dirk and was happy to see that his horse had not run off. As he mounted, his eyes just made out the tracks of Christine's horse from where she had ridden off. Part of him said it would be a good idea to see if she had gotten home safe, but he shook his head. She had given him what he wanted, and she would be safe. He didn't need to worry about her anymore; he had more important things to do. With that thought, he kicked his horse into a trot, and rode home.


	10. The Pride Factor

**Chapter 9  
**"The Pride Factor"

Artemis

I hope this finds you safe. If nothing else please tell me that.  
I need to know if you are alive.

I do not know how to write this letter. My mind and heart  
have been playing tricks on me the past few days but I feel  
grounded right now. I don't know how long this will last, so  
I must write this letter now before reason and sense leave me.

What is happening? Who is Dominick? What is Dominick?  
I'm not sure what I saw last night. My restless nightmares  
are playing in my head even now, and I must believe for my  
own sanity that these horrid images are the result of my over  
active imagination distorting what I saw. But I do know a few  
things. I know I saw you stab Dominick through the chest.  
And I know I saw him get up. Who is he?

And who are you? I saw a new side of Dominick last night,  
but I saw a new side of you as well. It frightened me. The way  
you moved, the way you talked, and the way you reacted to  
Dominick, it all frightened me. Have you two met before?  
Dominick is very protective. Has he confronted you previously?

Like I wrote above, I find it difficult to think freely. I do not  
know what I want or whom I want it with. Every time I feel that  
I've made up my mind, something comes up to change it. But I  
do know that I want to see you again. I want to apologize for  
bringing you into this mess. If you can find it in your heart to  
forgive me, I would like to meet with you.

Please send a reply,

Christine

Entreri read the note three times. His messenger, Sam, was still standing there patiently when Entreri lowered the parchment. It had been rolled and tied when it had been given to him. There was no seal, so the boy had probably read it.

"Do you have a reply?" Sam asked.

Entreri wasn't going to punish him for his curiosity. He was too concerned with what to do about the note. Entreri was not ignorant of women, but knowing and experiencing are two different things. The majority of his experiences with women involved prostitutes. Though most of his knowledge was second-hand, it was extensive. The women involved themselves in a relationship, it lasted anywhere from 30 minutes to a week. When it was over they left and didn't call.

The other women Entreri knew had been fellow assassins and fighters. They treated men much the same way, use 'em and lose 'em. Entreri had gotten what he needed from Christine. He had not mistreated her in any way, and he meant her no harm. He actually admired her. Women in this land could live a comfortable life without any ambitions. Christine on the other hand had gotten an education and had financial goals that were very respectable. But he did not appreciate her on any other level than that. Yes she was attractive, and she apparently found him pleasing as well, but Entreri would not let it go any further than that. He had realized long ago that he was too selfish to make any type of relationship work.

In Menzoberranzan, Entreri saw an entire city of selfish killers like himself. He saw the "relationships" that the drow had with each other and it was not for him. They were too self destructive for his tastes. A relationship will only work with love, and that involved giving without expecting return. Entreri wasn't made for that.

Entreri had used informants and sources before. At the end of those relationships, the assassin had paid them or killed them. Entreri didn't think that would work here. Entreri was not alone in his confusion, from the beginning of time, men have never understood how to end a relationship effectively.

"Tell her that I am alive and well," Entreri replied after a few moments of thought.

The boy looked disappointed. "That is all?"

Entreri looked very sternly at the child. "Yes. That is all."

Sam wanted to argue. He wanted to say that such a brief answer would only cause more problems, but he held his tongue and left the office.

Entreri filed the note away in his desk and leaned back in his chair. He knew the curt response would stir up another letter from Christine, but he really didn't have time to think about it. Alececarr knew Entreri was hunting him now. The vampire couldn't know that he tipped him off by using the Ruddy brothers, so he would not take immediate action to protect himself. Entreri needed to act fast.

* * *

Entreri had been to the Ruddy Mary before. The place looked normal to him. Customers walked about, waitresses took orders, and there was nothing out of the ordinary. It was the regular lunch crowd.

Entreri sat down at a table next to the window. The curtains were closed, but that wasn't out of the ordinary either. On either side of the tavern were dirty alleys, not an appetizing thing to look at. Entreri shifted the curtains a bit and got a small triangle of light to shine on his table.

"Artemis," a familiar voice sang out. Entreri looked up and saw Emma, a 40-something waitress who had served him before, "it's nice to see you back here again."

"Well if you won't come work at my place, how else am I supposed to see you," Entreri smiled back. "Though I hear you are suddenly off the market."

Emma beamed and held out her hand. The ring was simple, brass with a small opal center stone, but Entreri played into her enthusiasm. "Must have cost him a fortune. He's a lucky guy. May I?" he asked, motioning with his hand.

Emma nodded and stepped closer to the table putting her hand in Entreri's. He pulled gently on the fingers, pretending to examine the engagement ring, all the while brining her hand closer to the sunbeam. The light hit her hand, and the flesh started to smoke.

"Huh?" Emma reacted, but Entreri held her hand there until it burst into flames. She pulled it back then, snarling as she did, her brow furrowed around suddenly demonic eyes. She smothered her hand in the folds of her skirt and then prepared to lash out at Entreri.

The assassin pulled the curtains back completely, and the vampire leaped back just in time. Entreri stood, his dirk in hand, ready for any vampire to boldly attack him while he stood in the sunlight.

"What's going on here?" Alececarr moved through the suddenly thick crowd surrounding Entreri's table.

Emma had regained her composer and clung to her master. "That bad man hurt me," she whined in a childish voice clutching her injured hand.

"Now, now," he replied, rubbing her shoulders. "Go in the back and run some water over it. I'll make sure this man doesn't hurt you again."

Emma did as she was told, and Alececarr stepped forward. The rest of the crowd retreated a step, yielding to the new owner of the restaurant. Entreri looked at the crowd. There must be two dozen people. They couldn't all be vampires, could they?

"It's a little early for you to be up, isn't it Alice?" Entreri asked.

Alececarr ignored the butchering of his name for now. "I sleep only out of boredom during the day. You have made sure there is no boredom."

"Glad I could be of service," Entreri replied. This was not the same vampire who had run away last night. Alececarr was now backed by a small army, and he wasn't going to run. If Entreri wanted a fight, the master vampire would give it to him.

Alececarr leaped at the assassin, and Entreri's dirk was out above the table, but the vampire didn't come over the table; he came into it. The 4-foot tabletop smashed into Entreri's thigh and he stumbled back. Alececarr pushed the table further and pinned the human against the windowsill.

The vampire was in the sunlight now, glaring at his enemy from across the table. Entreri thought he detected steam rising from creature, but it wasn't smoke, and it definitely wasn't fire.

"You will never beat me," Alececarr said, leaning over the table. Entreri didn't take the bait, knowing his enemy would easily dodge any swipe, making Entreri look foolish. "Do you know why you will never beat me?"

"Pray tell why?" Entreri snarled, struggling against the table.

"Because I will never fight you on your terms. You want me to go outside, in the sunlight, where you know I am weakest and none of my army can follow to fight you one on one. At worst I might have even odds, but I won't do it. That isn't how you live to be over 1,000 years old. I will only fight you on my terms. You are not so foolish as to do that. Or are you?" Alececarr released pressure from the table and stepped back, allowing Entreri freedom of movement.

The assassin braced himself for action but didn't move. He was facing over 20 vampires all huddled around their master just outside the sunlight. He would not win.

"I didn't think so," Alececarr laughed. "Now go and don't come back. I will not wander into any of your traps, so don't bother setting them. If you want to fight me, you know where I am, but if you are unwilling now, I am not growing any weaker."

Entreri didn't have an answer. "This isn't over," the assassin said, echoing the words Alececarr had used the previous night. He fell backwards, breaking through the window and rolling into the alley.

Alececarr turned to the host behind him to let them know to disperse, but a voice from the corner of the tavern interrupted him. "Hey, do you guys still serve lunch?" Three men had just walked into the tavern and were confused as to why everyone was standing.

Alececarr turned to them. "Yes, we do still serve lunch."

"Well do you have a menu?" the man asked harshly.

"You are the menu."

"Huh?" But all three men understood clearly as a mob of hungry vampires swamped them.

* * *

Entreri crept down the sewer tunnel. Common sense would argue with what he was doing, but to him, his logic made sense. As the assassin followed the sewer grates above, counting as he went, he reminisced to the old days. Back in Calimport, he hadn't needed to worry about logic or common sense. He had a target, and he took them out. He didn't need to worry about what they were thinking or how he could set them up. He just did the job.

Now Entreri was creeping down the sewer tunnels at night, preparing to attack a vampire stronghold when they would be at their strongest. It made no sense, but Entreri was sure it was the right thing. Alececarr had told Entreri that he did not think the assassin would not attack him on his terms. Entreri would have to be a fool to do so. Because of that, Entreri was sure the defenses around the vampire nest would be at their weakest now.

And why would they have any defenses? No one but Entreri knew who or what they were. At this point, they were still inviting people in. They might have a look out or two down in the sewers, but nothing substantial. Besides, at night, they should all be out hunting, leaving a relatively empty nest back home. After Entreri was finished, it would be even emptier.

Entreri counted his last sewer grate, making a right down a short passageway and pausing. He had laid out the route from near his restaurant to the Bloody Mary as he had walked back during the day. It was an easy route, especially for someone with as good a directional sense as Entreri had. Now he should be within 100 yards of the Ruddy Mary.

He peered ahead into the darkness to no avail. The side path he was in ended 200 feet ahead, just under where the tavern should be. He could see nothing in the murky darkness, but he hadn't expected his infravision (a gift from Jarlaxle) to help him here. His prey had no body heat. They would see him coming, though, so creeping forward would only add suspicion. Best just to take them on directly.

There were two guards standing at the end of the tunnel. The vampires had dug a large area behind the sewers and under the tavern for sleeping quarters. At night most of that area was usually empty as the vampires were either upstairs enjoying a drink or out hunting. The two vampires on guard wished they were one of those two places, but Alececarr had insisted on keeping a guard at all times.

They saw Entreri coming toward them, walking steady and sure, not like most wandering homeless they saw. They had been warned of Entreri, but in the darkness, they did not recognize him. Plus, like all young vampires, they were too cocky to head their master's warning anyway.

"What do we have here?" one of them asked, stepping away from their post and toward the oncoming human. "Arnie, did you order us a midnight snack? I didn't know they delivered down here."

The other vampire played along. "It wasn't me. Maybe someone upstairs felt bad for us."

Entreri stopped twelve feet away, standing on the narrow ledge alongside the mostly empty center trough that ran away from the tavern. This small branch was not large, and it favored the vampires who could better use their quickness and strength, not allowing Entreri much room to maneuver. But the assassin did not plan on letting the encounter last long enough for the vampires to realize their advantage.

The two creatures stood before him, teeth bared and drooling, expecting some type of horrified reaction from their prey, but Entreri just looked at them placidly, his hand inches from his dirk.

"Doesn't look like a deliveryman to me," the second vampire said.

"I'm not," Entreri answered. "I'm the sandman."

"We already slept," the first vampire replied.

"Who said anything about sleeping." The vampires exchanged confused looks at this, and Entreri attacked. His blade was out and across the first vampire's neck before the doomed creature could even register the strike. He collapsed into a pile of dust. "I am just here to make sand."

The second vampire sprang back a dozen feet and dropped into a crouch, ready to run. Entreri gave him a head fake, "Boo!" and he took off. The guard got three steps further away, when a dagger buried itself into the back of his neck. The vampire tripped and fell off the ledge into the mold and slim running through the trough.

Entreri jogged over to his writhing form, not wanting to go into the filth after him. "Is your master here tonight?" Entreri asked. The vampire didn't respond, and started to climb out of the ditch on the other side. Entreri ran down the side of the culvert and leaped over the narrow strip of fluid running down the center. The vamp turned, and Entreri kicked him in the chest. His back hit hard against the inner wall of the sewer, driving the dagger even deeper into the back of his neck.

Entreri placed his dirk at his throat and asked his question again. "Is Alececarr at home tonight?"

The vampire nodded. With the dagger through his voice box, he was incapable of speech. "Where?" The vampire pointed weakly toward the back of the sewer. Entreri was hoping that if Alececarr were in the tavern then the vampire would have pointed up.

"Thank you, you've been most helpful," Entreri said. He regarded the gurgling mess of a vampire in front of him and then took his head.

The end of the sewer was quiet. Entreri's brief scuffle with the vampires had made some noise, but no more than the two guards probably made on their own. There was a heavy sheet hanging over a hole in the back wall. Entreri slowly pushed his way through it, noticing how the drips and splashes of the sewer behind him disappeared behind the curtain.

Above him was a ladder leading up, ending in a wooden ceiling. It was probably the floor of the Ruddy Mary in some back room. It was not a big hole, and it was nice to know that any evacuation out of the sewers or out of the building above would encounter a major bottleneck.

Entreri ignored the ladder for now. Ahead of him were a few short corridors, each ending with another heavy black sheet. There was only one torch in the hallway, and it was dying slowly, leaving very little light to navigate. This was where the vampires slept. Anyone down here now would be an easy kill.

The assassin moved silently toward the first curtain. He stopped outside it and strained to hear any noise at all. There was nothing but the distant din of the tavern above. He pulled the sheet aside slowly, allowing the light from the hallway to leak into the room.

There were at least 10 vampires on the floor. There were several empty mats, but most of them were in use. Each body lay still, without breath or heat. Though the analogy hardly needed to be made, it was as still as death.

Entreri marked the location of each body before releasing the curtain, casting the room back into darkness. He would do this quickly and quietly. Even if they started to wake as he went about, half of them would be dust before they knew what was happening, and the other half was unarmed.

Even though it was pitch black, Entreri could see the room in his mind. He could see each vampire and each empty mat. He could see the unlit lantern in the corner of the room and the small water basin next to it. In fact, the only thing he didn't see, as he moved toward his first target, was the transparent piece of fishing line strung across the entry.

Entreri tripped, and the crashing of a heavy door came from behind him. The assassin cursed as the room came alive around him. He could sense the motion, but his vision of the room was lost. He turned back for the exit, but ran into a heavy wooden door.

Entreri stopped his pounding on the door when he heard a laugh from behind. "Look what we have caught?" Several chuckles from those around the trapped assassin filled the room. Entreri turned slowly, knowing that he had been set up, but also knowing that he wasn't dead yet.

Alececarr was standing some distance in front of the assassin. Though Entreri couldn't see him, he knew it had to be him. Not just from the voice, but because Cicle was unsheathed and sucking the heat out of the air, causing a slight discoloration in the infrared.

"I knew you would come tonight," Alececarr said, playing this moment up. "I could see it in your eyes this afternoon. There is too much pride in you Artemis. You should swallow that pride and understand when you are beaten."

Entreri had no response. Alececarr was right. Pride had driven him into this room. But until Entreri was dead on the floor, he would not admit that the pride was misplaced.

"You will die here tonight and no one will stand in my way from taking over this city. You have only made things interesting for a time, but that time is quickly growing to a close. I always win."

"It takes a powerful being to make that claim as he stands safely behind his minions."

Alececarr only laughed. "I do not share your pride, foolish mortal. Do not try to draw me into a fight."

"But are these not your terms?" Entreri replied. "Here we are, I'm as blind as a bat, yet you can undoubtedly see me. You are surrounded by a dozen vampires, and I have no means of escape. Yet, you still hesitate to fight me. Is this how you inspire confidence from your men?"

The laughter from Alececarr was forced this time. The vampire had pride. His weakness was that he would not admit it. "Smell that boys," he said to the room. "Do not spend so much time in the rotten sewers that you forget what fear smells like. It is even more sweet from the supposedly fearless."

Entreri was watching as the heatless blade came slowly closer. It wouldn't take too much more prodding now. "Fear I might have, but you will only know if you come and get a taste for yourself."

He was fast, unnaturally fast, but Entreri was ready for it. The frost blade came in, and Entreri deflected it away. Seemingly unfazed by the parry, Alececarr sent his stolen weapon in three more times, each one deflected down and away. Not only did the vampire not hit his opponent, but he received an elbow to the face for his efforts.

Though Entreri could only see a hazy outline of the frost blade, it gave him enough information to know where Alececarr's hand was. And unless the vampire was a contortionist, all the other body parts should line up accordingly.

Alececarr stumbled back and cried out. The rest of the room came alive, and Entreri braced himself for attacks from every angle. A cry from their leader halted the other vampires. "Stop!" he shouted. "This human is mine!"

There was not another human on the face of Faerûn who understood how the body moved in combat better than Entreri. From just watching the frost blade, the assassin could interpolate the rest of the vampire's movements fairly accurately. He watched the blade handle dip slightly, and knew that Alececarr was shifting his shoulders, likely reaching for something with his left arm that was stored high on his body. Now he was probably holding Entreri's dagger in his off hand.

The vampire came on with rage and Entreri met him. Blocking and dodging as necessary to stay in one piece. He held his own, to start. Alececarr was no novice to battle, and as he watched Entreri repeatedly twist out of the way from attacks that he didn't make, the vampire realized that though the assassin could obviously see something, most of his defense was set up on guess work.

Alececarr began mixing up his attacks now. Throwing together illogical combinations that Entreri could not predict. He could always see the frost blade, but the dagger cut through his cloak time and again, getting closer and closer to drawing blood. Entreri knew his time was running short as he felt the jab of the last attack scrape his skin.

Alececarr stepped back suddenly and licked the dagger clean. "Ahhhh," he purred. "I've almost forgotten what this tasted like."

Entreri leaped on the attack now, trying to push the vampire back, but his opponent was too fast and strong for such a straightforward maneuver and overcame the rush easily and pushed back. Entreri was once again on his heels, his dirk frantically trying to keep the powerful frost blade away from him, all the while trying to dodge the invisible sting of the dagger, which now found flesh more often than not.

Entreri was growing weak, and Alececarr could sense it. He almost hummed with glee, as his last combo hit home. He announced his dagger attack, and Entreri devoted the dirk to it, knowing it would open him up on the other side. The frost blade dove straight in to skewer the assassin. Entreri tried to turn at the last second, but the blade cut through his leather vest and slid along his bare side, bringing a flash of pain and cold all at once.

Entreri stuck to the blade as Alececarr pulled his prey close. "Now I shall have a bigger taste." With Entreri's last bit of strength, he rammed his forehead into Alececarr's hungry mouth, lacerating his forehead, but also keeping death at bay for now.

"This isn't over," Entreri wheezed the line the two had tossed back and forth in their previous encounters.

Alececarr recovered quickly from the head butt only to look on in shock at his opponent. Here this human was, weak and dying, frozen to his sword, yet somehow he claimed it wasn't over. "It most certainly is and I will enjo-"

Entreri took something from his vest pocket and hurled it to the floor between them. The eyes of everyone in the room followed its path to the ground. It hit the uneven stone floor and sparked repeatedly, lighting several stray pieces of straw from the bedding on fire. The sudden light burned their sensitive eyes, and they all recoiled, Alececarr included, ripping the frost blade from Entreri's side.

The straw barely burned at all, and the light faded as quickly as it had come but left splotches in everyone's eyes. Alececarr was consumed with fury, whishing that Entreri would just admit defeat instead of playing these games. He blinked the light out of his eyes and prepared to crush the weak human. Entreri was gone.

The master vampire cried out as he searched the room quickly. He saw nothing but his minions each recovering from the flash of light. "What foul magic is this?" He muttered as he looked to the floor where Entreri had thrown the sparking object. It still lay there, glowing as its heat faded. The vampire picked it up. It was a simple piece of flint. Alececarr could detect no magical aura coming off it.

The vampire had seen far too many mages escape by hurling a magical device at their feet and disappearing in a poof of smoke and light, but this was just a piece of flint. Maybe it had been enchanted and only had one charge. Alececarr briefly scanned the room again but still saw nothing but heatless vampires. The door was still closed. He cursed.

"Open the door and get after him! He could not have transported himself far. He is weak and will leave a blood trail. I want him brought back to me alive!"

The room emptied quickly, each vampire eager to please his master. Alececarr started to leave as well, but paused as he regarded the piece of flesh that still clung to his blade. He inhaled it deeply before peeling it off with his teeth. He swirled the frozen piece in his mouth as the bloody morsel began to thaw. With the flavor fresh on his senses, he too went on the hunt.

Back in the room, Entreri let out a jagged sigh. He was pressed up against a corner of the room, only now brave enough to breathe. The wound on his side was starting to thaw now, and with the heat came the pain. Cicle had done a good job of not only numbing the wound, but his whole body, sending a deep chill down his spine and robbing him momentarily of his body heat, making him invisible to the heat sensitive eyes of the vampires. They each had a demonic presence that allowed them to see each other, but Entreri had looked no different than the cold stone wall he was leaning against.

Entreri had seen his own foes freeze solid when they touched the frost blade for too long. Entreri had been able to break contact just in time. But now he was on death's door. His wound was starting to bleed, and there were a dozen vampires in the area looking for him. He had very little stamina left and no ability to fight. He felt like a bleeding swimmer in shark-infested waters. He had healing potions back home, but he needed to get there first.

With his strength fading, and hoping that the vampires had gotten far enough away, Entreri pushed himself away from the wall, and started the long dangerous trip home.


	11. The Plan

I was confused, but then I thought about it, and it makes sense.

I've received compliments (not just for this story, but others with Entreri) for keeping true to Entreri's character as shown in the published novels. People complained that in other fics he was falling in love or adopting kids or turning good. They are happy I am not doing that to him.

I am also getting regrets that Entreri and Christine won't be a couple. You guys admit that it really can't be possible, but it would be nice to see. I appreciate the compliment that you think I could pull it off, but I'm not so sure that the result would any different from the fics you have been complaining about.

So what is the answer to this question? Do we want Entreri to be a cold heartless killer? Or do we want him to get in touch with his softer side? Or do we want both? Or neither?

I think what it comes down to is that we want to know him. All of Entreri's feelings and history and emotions are only hinted at in RAS's books. It's not until Servant of the Shard when Jarlaxle tries to dig into his head that Entreri begins to spill his inner thoughts. If RAS is going to write the next trilogy about those two, it will be interesting to see how he handles it. I read an interview in which RAS says he was uncertain at first how to write the Dark Elf Trilogy because he really wanted to get into Drizzt's head and let us know how he felt, but he also wanted to be able to continue to choreograph great fight scenes. The first requires first person, and the second requires third person. So he compromised and gave us the first person introductions to each section that have become my favorite parts of his books.

That is what we want from Entreri. We want first person dialog so we can get to know him. More than that, we want to like him. So when we get that first person dialog, we don't want him to think, "I am evil. Everyone is inferior to me. I'll just kill them all." We want him to be likeable. Darth Vader had les than 0 personality until he took off his mask and became good. (Sorry if I just spoiled that movie for anyone).

Because we want him to be good everyone tries to explain why he is bad. It is a problem with today's society that we don't want to believe in Mankind's inclination for evil. We always try and explain the serial killer's behavior by saying he was abused as a child or he had to watch his parents die or he experienced social rejection. I admit those have effects on people, but if everyone who experienced social rejection became a serial killer, we'd all be dead by now. But society has to blame bad things on something. It is never our fault. If you spill hot coffee on yourself, it's McDonald's fault. If you get cancer, it's Marlboro's fault. If you get pregnant, it's Trojan's fault.

This is not my view of society or of Entreri. If I ever try to explain Entreri's past, it will be very different from everything else that is out there in fanfiction. He was a bad kid. He was faster and smarter and more skilled than everyone else and he took advantage of it. Because that is the way I feel, Entreri will have to take responsibility for what he's done. That requires a different path than coming to grips with your childhood horrors. Getting in touch with your softer side is something that comes from Oprah. I think standing up and taking responsibility for your actions is more admirable.

Does this mean Entreri can't ever love anyone? Does this mean he will always be cold and heartless? No. Will he get together with Christine? I will only tell you this: At the end of this story, they will not be married. More than that, I will not say. Now, as far as getting to the end of the story, I'm almost there.

* * *

* * *

**Chapter 10  
**"The Plan"

Artemis,

You are alive and well! Thank the gods! But is that all I am to hear  
from you? Will you have nothing more to do with me than such a  
brief response? I truly regret having brought you into this situation,  
and if I have thus offended you, please accept my humble apology.  
But if there is something else I have done to turn you away from me,  
I must know.

Dominick visited me last night. He was a different person than before,  
and I am having difficulty believing that the details I remember from  
two nights ago were not just a dream. He did not appear to be injured  
in anyway and denied ever having raised a sword against either you or  
me. He said that it was your sword and you initiated the attack. He  
said that your relationship with me was only to get at him. He said that  
you used me to get what you wanted and that I likely will never hear  
from you again.

I do not want to believe him. Please tell me that he is wrong. Dominick  
said he would likely not return to me again either, but know that if what  
he says of you is false, I would choose you anyway. Please let me  
know if I have not misplaced my heart. I so desperately wish to see you  
again.

Earnestly,  
Christine Toole

Sam stood in front of Entreri's desk with an "I told you so" look on his face. This whole encounter intrigued him more than a little. His boss was very reserved and cold, so the fact that he might have a social life with one of the most eligible single women in the city was very curious. Though, the way things were going, it didn't look like that relationship would last.

Entreri put down the letter and looked at the other pieces of paper lying on his desk. His foreman had left him several urgent memos regarding his two business ventures. If Entreri did not act soon, he would start to loose a lot of money. Contracts needed to be worked out with food and drink vendors as well as with the lumberyard. If Entreri let his vendetta with Alececarr consume him, he would lose on more than one level.

But as far as levels of importance, right now, to him, Christine ranked the lowest. "I will respond to this later," he said, dismissing the boy.

Sam did not like the answer and hesitated, but a look from Entreri sent him out of the room. Entreri picked up the note and turned to place it on his "to do" stack. He winced as his side burned slightly. He had made it home in one piece last night, but only barely. He had drank two vials of healing balm and slept through the night and much of the morning. He had taken another when he awoke, and he should be fine by midday. He had to be careful not to overdue it on the healing, for the potions could be very intoxicating if overdone.

He turned back to his desk. The papers covering it reminded him of the many things he had to do, and the pain in his side reminded him of the one he felt most passionate about. Entreri needed a plan. He did not have one. He would not get one in the next two hours, so he might as well take care of his other business while his main problem had time to bounce around in his head for a while.

* * *

The Douglas Emporium was relatively empty when Entreri walked through the front door. Victor Douglas was behind the clerk's counter filling out order forms. The bell on the door alerted him to Entreri's presence.

"Artemis, it's been quite some time. We have a few things to discuss. My store room is getting full, I can't afford to hold on to stuff this long."

"Good morning to you too, Victor."

The clerk blushed. "I'm sorry, Artemis, it's just I've had a rough week. A few other customers I depend on have been late as well."

"Well, I apologize for that, but it can't be that bad, can it?"

"It's not just that," Victor admitted. "My normal vender just came buy to drop of my weekly order, and he convinced me to get some of his newest brew. He offered it cheap so I bought four kegs thinking it would be easy to move. That was before I tried it. Man, I've never . . . well, here, have some for yourself." Victor produced a bottle he had tapped from the keg and poured enough to cover the bottom of a glass. "Try it."

It wasn't ale; Entreri could see that. As he held it up to the light it gave of a reddish tint. He shrugged his shoulders and tossed the two ounces down his throat. Instantly his throat burned like he had swallowed flaming oil. He felt his stomach reflux, but he managed to hold it down. The warmth that spread through him was like if he had just drank another vial of healing potion.

"Powerful stuff, eh?" Victor asked, a smile spreading across his face. "They call it Firewater. They are making it up in the Great Range. He said it will keep you warm in the winter. Heck, I'm thinking about using it to degrease my wagon axles. What does 180 proof mean anyway?"

"It means you shouldn't be drinking it," Entreri replied, blinking the tears out of his eyes. "And if you ever run out of lamp oil, you won't need to buy more for a while."

"What do you mean?"

Entreri reached for the bottle, poured some more into the glass, and then flung the contents into the nearby fireplace. What had been smoldering coals instantly flashed into high flames and then died again. "That's what I mean."

"So you think I should market this differently?"

Entreri shrugged. "I think we should settle my order first."

"Right," Victor said. "Follow me."

The owner led Entreri around the counter and into the back storeroom. The room was indeed overflowing, with kegs and barrels staked three high in some places. "You are overstocked," Entreri agreed.

"But after you take your share, I should be okay. You've got 8 kegs of golden ale, 6 of honey mead, 10 of dark ale, and 6 barrels of dinner wine."

Entreri located each item as Victor called them out. "You've got 8 barrels of wine here, I thought you only supplied the northern taverns."

"I do. As it turns out, you aren't the only place up north that offers wine anymore. From what I understand, they have new ownership at the Ruddy Mary, and he is trying to make the place a little more upscale."

Entreri nodded his head slowly, a plan forming. "Yes, I think I've met him. I can see how he might be a bit more selective with what he drinks."

"I haven't seen him yet, but he pays on time, so I like him."

Entreri turned to Victor. "How many kegs of that fire water did you say you had?"

"Four, why, do you want some?"

"No, but I think the Ruddy Mary might appreciate it. When do you deliver to them?"

"They had someone in here to pay last night just before I closed, so their order will go out with my noon deliveries."

"Do you have room on the wagon for four more kegs?"

"Sure, but I can't alter a customer's order without their approval."

"Add it to my order," Entreri said, "but deliver it to them. Like I said, I know the owner. Don't say anything about it when you drop them off. I'll stop by later today to explain everything."

"If you're paying, I don't have a problem with it."

"Good, let's go back up front and settle the bill then."

* * *

As Entreri went about his other chores, the plan formed in his head. As he thought, he kept an eye on the sky. Storm clouds were rolling in from the west. Whatever his plan was, he would have to do it today and very soon. Thunderstorms were like parties for vampires. The early sunset combined with the violent chaos of the storm made incredible cover for a massacre. Entreri had seen it before both with vampires and werewolves. The storm moves in early in the evening, and when it leaves the next morning, the town is in ruins. Entreri had undoubtedly roused Alececarr's ire last night, and he didn't think the vampire would stand pat much longer. Entreri decided to add one more trip to his list.

* * *

"Artemis Entreri. Please tell me you've cleared up my vampire problem."

John Irenum, the captain of the city guards was sitting behind his desk with his feet propped up on his desk going over the reports for the day.

"Not yet. I need your help."

John dropped his feet from the desk. "Raymond! Get in here!"

The youngest and newest member of the guard came running into the office. "Yes, sir?"

"What day is it today?"

"Uh, the 23rd, sir."

"Mark it on the calendar. Artemis Entreri has just asked for my help."

"Uh, sir?"

"That is all," John dismissed the boy. He nodded and left the room.

"I'm being serious," Entreri said flatly.

"So am I," John replied, the volume of his voice adding validity to his comment. "Earlier this week I had to bring a dead girl back to her father. I was told by a certain assassin that he would take care of the problem. Over 72 hours have passed, and now that same assassin is coming to me saying he needs help. I can only assume that means the situation has escalated out of your control. Stop me when you have anything to say for yourself."

"In those reports of yours, how many accounts of dead or missing people do you have?"

"I don't get reports from what happens in the north," John replied, avoiding the question. Entreri knew the answer. If there had been just one more body that had matched the girl from the river, John would have hunted down the assassin long before this.

"Yes, there have been deaths in the north. I told you I would contain it, and I believe I have. It has taken me this long to find their lair and devise a way to stop them. If you had done what you wanted three days ago, the situation would be much worse than it is now."

"Why should I believe you?"

"Because you ask me that same question every single time something like this comes up and every single time I am proven right in the end."

John took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "What do you need from me?"

"Archers," Entreri replied. "At least ten unless you can spare more. They have to be good and they have to be able to withstand the sight of a vampire without losing their composer."

"When?"

"Within two hours," Entreri replied. He had taken another healing potion during his rounds, and he felt almost fully healed, though he didn't think he would have to do too much fighting. It was noon now, and Entreri wanted to make sure that Victor had an extra hour or two to deliver the firewater.

"And will this end it?"

"Yes," Entreri said. "And it needs to happen today. If the storm comes, and there are still vampires in the streets, it will turn into a very nasty party. It will be a party you do not want an invitation to."

John nodded. "You will have your archers. Now tell me the plan."

* * *

The Ruddy Mary did moderate business that afternoon. The storm clouds in the west let everyone know that if there was work to be done outside, it had better be done now or not at all. The late lunch crowd was thus very thin.

Alececarr was resting underground. He could sense the coming storm without having to see the clouds. He had eaten enough druids to gain a connection with the forces of nature around him. The thunderstorm would be here in less than two hours and it would be glorious. He had most of his army, almost 30 vampires underground. The rest worked the restaurant above.

Emma Gould, the woman Entreri had earlier marked as a vampire, nursed her injured hand as she cleared a table and brought the dishes back to washroom. Her life had not changed much since she had become a vampire. Well, there were a few drastic changes such as she now had eternal life, had the strength of an ox, and had recently eaten her fiancé, but other than that, the daily routine of her life hadn't changed. She was still a waitress, and she still took orders from the cooks, but they were vampires too, so she accepted the role.

"Emma, we need another jug of cooking oil from the storeroom," one of the cooks called.

She didn't answer verbally, but dumped the dishes in the sink, wiped her hands, and went to the back room. Though her tasks were just as mundane as before, she noticed that the lifting part of her job had gotten a lot easier. The oil was on a shelf on the back wall. She had to reach over the kegs of ale and mead that had just been delivered. It seemed like an unusually big order, but she wasn't in charge of that, so she put it out of her mind.

Motion from the back door caught her attention. The door had been reinforced and was always locked to keep out the usual beggars. Now the door was open. She didn't think anyone capable of picking the lock from the outside so it must have been one of the new young waitresses who had left it open.

She went over to close it and saw a man hunched under a green blanket. "Could you spare some food miss?" the beggar asked.

A smile spread across Emma's face, fangs poking over her bottom lip. "Oh, but I think you are the food." She reached down under the blanket and caught hold of the man's shirt, hoisting him off the ground outside, up into the building. She reared back for a bite and felt a sharp pain in her chest. She looked down to see a rapier hilt between her breasts.

From under the green blanket Entreri frowned at the older woman. "I'm sorry Emma," and he swiped his dirk over her shoulders. He quickly grabbed the hilt of the borrowed saber as the vampire's body dissolved around it, not wanting it to clatter to the floor.

Despite his silent kill, Entreri knew he had to be quick. Emma had been back here to get something, and when she didn't return, she would be missed. Entreri spotted the four kegs he was looking for right away. With some difficulty he rolled one to the far side of the room and moved two others to the center of the room. As he moved the heavy kegs, he listened to the floor. There had to be a hollow spot that led to the sewers below.

Moving the last keg, he heard the hollow thump in the floor. That wasn't all he heard. "Emma, what is taking so-"

Entreri didn't even look; he just hurled his dirk at the noise. The vampire cook had no time to dodge and flattened himself against the doorway as the blade impaled his throat and stuck into the doorframe. The stupid vampire tried to pull himself free with his head, and though he succeeded, he cut one too many veins in his neck, and his body turned to dust.

Entreri leaped forward in a somersault, rolling to a crouch, and catching his dirk before it hit the floor. He stayed in the crouch briefly and looked through the doorway. He didn't see anyone in the short hall and went back to work.

The trap door to the sewer was under a rug. Entreri had it exposed and opened in moments. Using the dirk, Entreri pierced one of the two kegs he had moved to the center of the room and spread some of the alcohol on the floor, making trails to each keg in the room.

He pulled out a rag from his pocked, soaked it with the firewater, and tied it to a long piece of string. Entreri tossed the rag up and over a rafter that hung directly over the trap door and tied it so the rag hung two feet over the center of the open door.

He had to be fast now, for he was about to make some noise. The keg he had cracked open was still 90 percent full, and he pushed it into the open door, hearing a satisfying crack and slosh as it hit the ground below and emptied its contents. Entreri lit the rag on fire and ran out the back door.

The rag burned hot and fast, the flames licking upward at the string that supported it. The string didn't last long under the heat, and after ten seconds, the weight of the rag was too much, and it fell straight through the open trap door.

* * *

Captain Irenum and his eleven best bowmen crouched in the sewers. Entreri had given them good directions and they now waited just around the turn from the vampire nest. The men had not moved quietly, but the acoustics of the sewer played tricks with the noise, often bouncing it back at them or scattering it so it sounded like there was either twice as many of them or they were half a mile away.

In either case, when they had reached their destination, John had the stealthiest of the group peer around the edge to see two guards, seemingly oblivious to their presence. Now the men waited. They were professional enough to not mutter amongst themselves, but as twenty minutes went buy, they each wanted to ask the burning question. "When?"

Entreri hadn't been specific. When they had parted ways just moments before John and his men had entered the sewer Entreri said he would give them about thirty minutes. It had almost been 50 now.

In the quiet of the sewers, the sound of the keg hitting the ground and splitting open was clear, but not overwhelming. Each of the men exchanged confused glances, eager for action, but not wanting to blow their cover too soon. John motioned to the scout to have a look.

At the end of the short branch, he saw the two guards turn around and investigate the noise. They pulled back the curtain that separated the sleeping area and looked at the broken keg with confusion. The city guard watched from a distance of about 200 feet as what looked like a teardrop of fire fell between the two vampires and the whole end of the sewer combusted.

The vampires shrieked in pain and surprise and ran away from the blaze. The rest of the city guards turned to the scout for clarification of what they heard, and they got their answer as the scout pulled his bow from his shoulder, knocked an arrow, and let it fly.

The first target was too engulfed in flames, and the vampire was already disintegrating as the arrow passed through the flaming outline of cascading dust. The archer allowed a shiver to run down his spine as he knocked a second arrow and took aim at the other vampire. He was only 50 feet away, and far less on fire. The arrow blasted a hole in his chest, and he did his best imitation of wind blown chaff as he was tossed back and disintegrated.

"What are they?" the guard cried as he knocked yet another arrow and panned the flames, waiting for another one.

"Vampires," John said as if he were an expert. In reality, he knew little more than his men did. Entreri had just given them a brief synopsis of how to kill one before they parted ways. "Shoot them through the chest. If you hit them anywhere else, keep firing. If you let one escape, any blood it sheds will be on your head!"

The rest of the men were now all looking at the flames, but only the first guard had his bow out. He lowered it after several moments. "Are there anymore?"

Twenty screaming and burning vampires came tearing through the flames.

* * *

Entreri raced around the tavern, his dirk and saber ready. The action would be delayed, and he was going to be ready for it. He expected a rush out of the tavern once the smoke started. The scared and/or stupid vampires would run as well, finding that the rays of the sun were just as harsh as the flames they were fleeing.

By lighting the fire beneath the tavern, and with most of the structure made of stone, Entreri didn't know how long it would take for the flames to reach up and burn the wooden floor of the store room. He was hoping to get some help from his vampire friends. He was not disappointed.

* * *

John and his men let loose with their arrows, striking down the easy targets as they ran screaming through the fire. A few of the vampires toward the back of the rush saw their numbers fall quickly by the bow and turned around for a different route of escape. Jumping back through the flames, they fought for position on the ladder, dancing around as their feet soaked in the flaming liquid all around them.

The most aggressive vampire fought his way up the ladder and placed his flaming shoes on the wooden floor of the tavern's storeroom. He had little time to do anything else.

* * *

Entreri watched from the outside as the back of the tavern exploded throwing chunks of stone and slabs of wood high into the air. Flames shot 100 feet into the sky, and it rained stone in every direction for hundreds of feet. Those who weren't killed instantly (there were a few) stumbled deliriously out of the front of the tavern.

Entreri ran forward, ushering the stunned patrons away, watching for those who tried to stick to the shadows. Two vampires tried to escape, but Entreri charged them with blades drawn. The scared creatures chose the sunlight over the blades and met a fiery end.

Little else came out of the building. The walls of the tavern were made of stone, and as the wooden floors burned, the walls collapsed in. Most of the firewater had been thrown in the air during the explosion and the fire settled into a slow burn rather quickly. Entreri had seen only the two vampires run out. Everyone else was standing in the sunlight watching the building burn. Most of the action must have been down in the sewers.

* * *

Vampires fell left and right. Some received a wooden shaft through the heart while the unlucky ones collected the projectiles like pincushions while their bodies slowly burned. They all screamed.

Alececarr listened to the screams from inside the caverns. The sleeping area had long ago filled with smoke, and the firewater had run inside, setting the curtains and bedding on fire. In the midst of the blaze sat the master vampire. Cicle was out, and the frost blade kept the flames from touching the undead creature. The magical weapon would normally not act that well as a fire shield, but Alececarr funneled his considerable magical energies through it, and no flame came within three feet of him.

As his minions died in the sewer and above in the explosion, he felt each one. As the demonic spirits were released to the atmosphere, Alececarr felt a jolt of energy run through him. Soon, far too soon for a random accident, the slaughter had ended. This had not been an accident, and Alececarr's list of suspects contained only one name. But like the resolve Entreri showed when he had been locked in this room with a host of vampires, Alececarr was not defeated yet. And it would take more than fire, arrows, or sunlight to take him out.

When all the air had been sucked out of the caverns and the fires died down around him, Alececarr rose slowly from the ground and walked out to meet his enemies. He would face whatever he saw, and if he died, he would make sure he took Artemis with him.

The main blaze at the end of the sewer was still burning strong as it had plenty of oxygen to draw from. Alececarr stepped up to it and the flames parted under the influence of the frost blade. He stepped through and spun into action. Twelve arrows flew straight for him, but he was moving faster than the archers could aim.

One arrow scrapped passed his thigh and the rest missed. As they all reloaded, Alececarr looked for Entreri. The assassin was not among them. These were city guards. They were all trained and armed. The vampire didn't want to believe they could be behind this attack. Entreri must be above.

Alececarr screamed in rage as he charged the group, weaving and jumping as arrows skipped off the stone walls around him. John dropped his bow and pulled his sword as the vampire closed the gap between them unbelievably fast. He called for the rest of his men to change to swords, but Alececarr was on top of them too quickly. He bowled them over, slashing out with Cicle. The weapon clanged off of breastplates and armor, doing no real damage, but sent several of the men sprawling.

John cried out for a flanking maneuver, but Alececarr wasn't hanging around to fight. He wanted Entreri, and he didn't have time to waste on these soldiers.

"Some one hit him!" John cried as the vampire was escaping down the sewer. The men were just picking themselves up, and no one had seen where he went. John dropped his sword and picked up a bow. As the vampire fled at amazing speed, the captain knew he only had one shot. He waited for Alececarr to stop dancing and let fly.

The arrow struck the fleeing creature in the center of the back, adding to the vampire's momentum ever so slightly and sending him stumbling into the muck. He disappeared from sight, and John waited for him to get up, not sure if he had found the heart. After several long seconds, nothing moved.

John relaxed slightly and checked the health of his men. No one was seriously hurt, and they all stood ready for the next vampire to come running at them. None did, and as the smoke began to fill the sewer, making it difficult to breath, they left.

* * *

Entreri met the city guards as they crawled out of a sewer grate a few blocks from what was left of the Ruddy Mary.

"Did you kill them all?" Entreri asked as John emerged from underground.

"We are fine, thanks," John replied curtly. "And yes, all the vampires are dead."

"All of them?" Entreri asked again.

"That's what I said."

"Even the leader?"

"That would traditionally be part of 'All' I believe." John gave Entreri a look that let the assassin know he didn't want to talk about it. He was helping his men out of the sewer, and there was smoke billowing into the sky. He had other things to worry about.

Entreri didn't think they would have much problem with the fire spreading with the storm coming. As he thought this Entreri felt the first drop hit his hand. He looked up and saw the clouds were darker than he had thought. It might be the smoke, but he was pretty sure they were in for a good soaking.

After John had sorted out all the details, he would come back to Entreri to talk about it, the assassin was sure of that. Entreri would bet the captain had probably seen some horrific things during that fight, and he would want more information about what he had just killed. Entreri could ask about his weapons then. Or he could go into the sewers and look for them himself. He glanced at the grate and saw the smoke billowing out of it. He could look for them later.

* * *

The rain was slow in coming. It dripped annoyingly for about 30 minutes. Then, with a deafening clap of thunder, the skies erupted. It was as if an ocean had opened itself right above the city. The burning tavern was quickly extinguished and the nearby buildings escaped with minor damage.

The streets emptied of people as they turned into rivers. The sewer grates were far from adequate for capturing all of the water. What they did catch was collected below the city in rushing tunnels of water.

The cool water washed clean a system of tunnels that was in sore need of it. Any stray object caught in the path of the flow was ripped down stream effortlessly. The flow only found one immovable object.

Alececarr opened his eyes as the water rushed over him. He had never been stabbed through the heart with wood before, but he knew he didn't like it. It had not killed him. While his body lost consciousness and was on the verge of disintegrating, his demonic spirit held it together.

He sat up slowly, realizing he was going to have to go somewhere soon before the rapids around his feet became too strong for him to withstand. With a vicious groan, he yanked the arrow out of his back and tossed it aside. Cicle was still in his hand and the vampiric dagger was secured under his cloak.

Alececarr was mad. His army was gone and he had been made a fool of. He would have to move on to another town. Though it was several hours till sunset, with the storm raging overhead there would be no sun till dawn. He could steal a horse and find another town. A town without . . .

Alececarr growled in anger. Entreri! Alececarr wasn't going anywhere. He was mad and hungry. He needed something to eat. And he knew just the restaurant to satisfy his appetite.

The storm was just getting started.


	12. The Final Battle

**Chapter 11**  
"The Final Battle"

Entreri sat in his restaurant listening to the rain outside and enjoying a very big steak. Entreri had his doubts that Alececarr was dead, but there was nothing he could do about it right now. The sewers would not be friendly in this storm and according to John, there was nothing left. Entreri respected the captain more than most, but he still had his doubts. At the same time, if Alececarr had been above ground during the explosion, the assassin didn't care how powerful the vampire was, he would have perished. If tomorrow, when Entreri sorted through the rubble of the Ruddy Mary, he found his weapons, he would rest easy.

If Alececarr wasn't dead, then he was definitely injured. If Entreri found him in the sewers tomorrow, then he should be an easy kill. The idea that the vampire might run entered the assassin's thoughts, but not for very long. If he was still alive, he would hunt Entreri down for revenge. But that wouldn't be tonight, so Entreri was going to enjoy his steak.

Even though Entreri had opened this restaurant more than two months ago, he had eaten in it very infrequently. Tonight he felt he deserved a treat. The place was about half full, with few people wanting to brave the elements for a meal. Most of these people lived very close by, and Entreri didn't expect them to leave any time soon, nor did he expect anyone else to come in.

The doors to The Dragon's Lair burst open suddenly, and a dripping figure in a hooded poncho stumbled in. Entreri had his guess from the figure's size, and as he removed the poncho and hung it on the coat rack to the left of the door, Entreri was proven right. Captain John Irenum shook the rain from his hair as he looked over the small crowd, spotted Entreri, and made his way over to the owner's table. The limp from John's bad leg was very noticeable with the captain having just been in the cold spring rain.

"You couldn't wait until tomorrow?" Entreri asked as the captain pulled back a chair opposite the assassin. "It's quite a ways from the guard house for you to come in this weather."

John shook another chill out of his spin as he sat. A waitress was quick to the table, and John spoke before she could great him. "Coffee. Hot. Very hot." She nodded and left. John turned to Entreri. "Not so far away considering I won't sleep a wink tonight, or for the rest of my life perhaps, until I know more about what I saw this afternoon."

Entreri nodded. "Vampires are demon possessed corpses. They retain the knowledge of their body's life before, but not their soul. They are unredeemable and unrepentant. They are pure evil."

"Then why are you fighting them?" John quipped, only half joking.

Entreri started a response, and then bit his lip. Entreri had used many adjectives to describe himself over the years, but evil had never been one of them. He was a pragmatic person who did not hold to the standards presented to him by the religious leaders of the community. He lived in a world with consequences where lives were taken as a result. Everyone died, some for a purpose, and some not. Entreri was just an instrument in that purpose. But was he evil?

The answer to that question rested in the potential for evil to be a relative term. Was he a demon? Obviously not. Was he a priest? Not remotely. He had always thought of himself as being somewhat neutral, taking lives when necessary, but never for pleasure. Now, over a year after leaving Calimport, he couldn't honestly classify his old lifestyle as one of neutrality.

John hadn't expected such a long pause before an answer. He realized he might have struck a nerve, and for the first time realized the potential for Entreri's past sins and the amount of effort he had taken to remove himself from them. For some reason, John respected him for that.

"I can assure you they are all dead," John said, changing the topic. "You seemed concerned that some might have escaped earlier, but we got them all."

"Their leader was about 5'8'', shoulder length blonde hair, blue eyes, and faster and stronger than any of the other vampires."

John nodded, remembering that vampire clearly. "He was the last out of the fire, though he did not have a burn mark on him. He dodged our arrows and raced down the tunnels, trying to escape, but I got him through the heart, and he did not get up."

"You saw him turn to dust?" Entreri asked. From his research, Entreri would have predicted that a stake through the heart wouldn't have been enough.

"He did not get up," John repeated, the confidence of the kill gone from his voice.

Entreri shook his head. Alececarr was still alive and not nearly as baldy hurt as Entreri had hoped. He might come for the assassin tonight. Entreri looked down at his waist, already knowing that he would not see a weapon. This habit of walking around unarmed had to stop soon.

John saw the look on Entreri's face and could figure out what it meant. "You said that wood through the heart. . ."

"The leader is more powerful. I expected him to be upstairs in the tavern, in which case either I would have faced him or he would have been destroyed in the explosion."

John's hand dropped to his sword, which he always wore when he went into the north section of town. "He is still alive?"

The door to the restaurant burst open again. Like when John had entered, the rain soaked figure was at first unrecognizable. Unlike when John had entered, the doors were ripped from their hinges and crashed into two of the tables, spilling food and drinks everywhere.

The men at those tables stood and turned, angry looks on their faces. Those looks never had a chance to turn to fear as Alececarr was beside them in a flash and ripped their throats open. He didn't drink as much as he bathed in the fountains of blood. The vampire had fed on a dozen people on his way over to the restaurant and now only hungered for Entreri's flesh.

Alececarr flung the dead men across the room like weightless rag dolls, inspiring a mass evacuation from the rest of the patrons, storm or not. John rose from the table, pulling his sword and planning to finish the work he had started.

Entreri didn't bother warning the captain that he wouldn't beat this foe, instead he thanked the big man for the short reprieve while he scanned the room for a weapon. Entreri's weapons were upstairs in his office. To get to them he would have to turn his back to the vampire, something he was not going to do.

John stepped up to Alececarr, feinted an attack from the left, pivoted his weapon around and swung in from the right. It was an impressive attack, one that would have defeated almost any over aggressive enemy. In fact, Alececarr bit hard on the feint, moving to his left and into the path of the real attack. He was too quick though, and the vampire managed to duck the might swing and punched out under it.

John accepted the punch, stopping his swing and bringing the pommel of his weapon crashing down on Alececarr's head. At least, that was his plan. He never got past the "accepting the punch" part. The vampire's diminutive frame masked his incredible strength and the captain of the city guards went stumbling backwards into the table.

Before he could regain his balance, Alececarr spun a kick into his chest, lifting him into the air and slamming him into the restaurant wall. John's head hit hard against the wood, and he slumped to the floor, his sword clattering to the ground.

The vampire turned his attention to Entreri now and saw the assassin held a wooden broom handle. Alececarr just laughed as he pulled Cicle from its sheath. Entreri swallowed hard but kept his weapon of choice for now. One direct hit from the frost blade and his weapon would be halved, but the assassin didn't intend to use the broom handle to engage the rapier, but to keep his adversary on the move, giving Entreri a chance to direct the fight.

Alececarr understood the tactic, but it would only work if he feared a hit from the weapon. The vampire decided he would let Entreri spin his stick about all he wanted. Alececarr would just step in and kill him. He attempted to do just that as Entreri wove his makeshift staff around his waist. The assassin used the momentum of the broken handle to redirect his weight, dodging to the side as Cicle came in. The frost blade just missed, and Entreri lashed out with his weapon, striking the vampire in the eye.

Alececarr howled in pain, slashing out at the assassin. Entreri blocked the strike by rapping the vampire's knuckles with the handle and then jabbed out with the broken end of the pole into his enemy's neck. The soft skin under Alececarr's chin ripped open and retained a few wooden splinters as the vampire cried out again and rushed forward to crush the assassin.

Entreri was too focused on the weapon to defend against the body and had to bail out by rolling to the side. Alececarr defied the laws of physics by halting his momentum before crashing into the bar and slashing down at the elusive human. Entreri had no defense but his broomstick, and as predicted, it was cut in two by the frost blade. The impact did slow the strike enough for Entreri to roll further out of the way. As he did, he threw the longer half of his weapon between the legs of the vampire, and as the blood-thirsty creature turned, he tripped, giving Entreri enough time to get to his feet.

The unarmed assassin ran three steps away from the bar, saw the shadow beside him on the floor, and dove under a table as Alececarr came crashing down from above. The vampire hit the round table on the edge, flipping it over, and shielding the human as he scrambled a few more feet. Entreri threw a chair over his shoulder as he went, deflecting a killing blow as the vampire leaped over the table, and finally made it to John's limp form. He picked up the fallen broadsword and turned just in time to catch Alececarr's next attack.

Entreri managed to get his feet under him as the two combatants kept their weapons in contact. The vampire just smiled at his opponent and Entreri understood why as he felt the chill creep down the handle of the big sword. If it got much colder, it would become brittle and useless. If he made it through this fight, he didn't want to have to explain to John how he had shattered the captain's favorite sword.

Entreri broke off the contact, and swung the weapon about quickly, trying to ward off both the vampire and the chill in the weapon. Neither goal was met. Alececarr stayed on the offensive despite the huge sword flying about him. Entreri dodged the attacks both because he feared for the weapon he was using and because he could not move the heavy blade fast enough. He was used to much smaller weapons.

As Entreri backpedaled, he could feel considerable warmth from behind him. The assassin pretended to stumble as he took another step back and dropped into a crouch swinging his weapon in a wide arc. Alececarr took the bait, coming in hard, and then had to leap back, giving Entreri enough time to bring his weapon completely around his body and into the fire pit behind him.

When the sword came around the other side of the human's body, completing the 360-degree swipe, there was a flaming log impaled on the end of it. Alececarr stayed back a moment to allow the flaming strike to pass in front of him, knowing that Entreri would never be able to bring the over-balanced weapon back in for a block. Entreri had known it too, and Alececarr only realized that the sword had been thrown at him when the flaming log slammed into his gut, bowling him to the floor.

The vampire cursed his carelessness as he scrambled back to his feet, wiping the hot embers from his wet clothes. When he stood, Entreri held a poker from the fireplace. This weapon was poorly balanced, but was the closest thing he was going to find to his dirk without going upstairs.

The two fighters traded blows now evenly, striking and parrying instead of dodging and jumping. Alececarr was fast, very fast. His weapon was better balanced, and Entreri lacked a blade. That point became painfully obvious as Entreri crossed up his opponent and swiped over his shoulders. The round poker hit the side of Alececarr's neck and stopped. Had it been his dirk, the vampire's head would now be rolling on the floor.

As Alececarr laughed, Entreri realized that he had probably been allowed to make the attack only to show him the uselessness of it. The vampire brought his rapier in from the side, and Entreri pirouetted, knocking the attack back out wide and coming around to stab straight forward. Again he was allowed to make the strike, the poker sinking into the vampire's chest. Alececarr kicked out, sending Entreri over a tabletop in a cascade of silverware.

The poker was still sticking out of the vampire as he leaped to the tabletop, looking down on Entreri as the human scrambled to pick up a steak knife. If the poker hurt him, Alececarr was not letting it show. "Now it ends," he said, leaping high into the air.

Entreri struck out with the steak knife, not at the vampire, but at the wall behind him, cutting through a rope. The assassin rolled to the side as the vampire came down and a chandelier came down on top of him. Entreri didn't bother to see the effectiveness of the cast iron cage but turned and ran.

He raced to the corner of the main room, through a pair of doors, up a flight of stairs, down the hall, and into his office. His weapons were in a chest at the foot of his bed. He opened the chest, grabbed his dirk and borrowed saber, and turned to meet his enemy. The room was empty. Entreri strained his ears but could only hear the pounding of his heart and the occasional clap of thunder outside.

Entreri had not bothered to light any of the lamps during his mad dash, and the upstairs of the restaurant was eerily dark. For the first time in a long time Entreri was scared. He slowly walked back across the room to the hallway and peered out. It was empty. The floorboards did not creek and the shadows were all still.

The vampire would come. Entreri was sure of that. There were no windows into this room and only the one door. He could wait for Alececarr and be prepared. The assassin did just that.

* * *

Alececarr took his time lifting the heavy chandelier off him, cursing each time he cut himself on the shards of glass from the broken lamps. He was not concerned about losing Entreri. If he understood his opponent, he would not go far. He was probably only going to get his weapons. Alececarr respected him enough to allow him the chance, wanting this kill to be one he could take pride in. 

With Entreri defeated, he could begin anew in this town. If he killed him fairly he could rest assured that he had beaten the realms best. If he was unable to do so, then he would always live with the knowledge that he could be defeated. He did not want that.

The poker was still shoved into his chest and the vampire pulled it out slowly, relishing the pain and letting it fuel his anger. He walked slowly to the corner of the room that Entreri had fled to, walked up the stairs, and paused at the darkened hallway.

A faint light came from a room halfway down on the left. Alececarr drew Entreri's jeweled dagger with his other hand, realizing that the assassin had probably paired off his weapons as well. "I did not take you for someone to hide," Alececarr called as he cautiously peered into each darkened room he passed.

"I'm not hiding. I am waiting."

The response came from the lit room, and Alececarr moved toward it.

"Let's end this," Entreri said just as the vampire moved into the doorway.

The room was dark except for a single candle just to the right of the doorway. Alececarr saw Entreri standing against the far wall, dirk and saber in hand. The vampire walked into the room to meet him. "Yes, this ends now."

Entreri stepped forward and swung his dirk. Alececarr thought the assassin still too far away to initiate an attack, but he brought his weapons up anyway. As Entreri's blade swept in front of him, Alececarr cried out as he felt a searing pain slice across his side and back. Reflexively he turned and saw a second Entreri behind him. "What?"

The vampire glanced back over his shoulder and saw the first Entreri was still there and stabbing forward. He was unsure which one to block and swept his dagger around his back and the frost blade across his front. The dirk was deflected, but the saber followed in a similar thrust that opened the vampire's stomach.

Both attacks had now come from the same direction, and Alececarr turned his back to the first Entreri, hoping that it was only an illusion. "What magic is this?"

Entreri laughed as he launched into a complex series of attacks against the heavily injured vampire. Alececarr was over matched and stumbled backwards. He came up against the far wall and felt the cracking of glass. "What magic indeed!" Entreri cried. "The magic is your own."

Alececarr cursed his carelessness. He cast no reflection in the mirror and so the ruse had been very effective. Too effective. His body ached, and his parries came later and later, if they came at all. Only half of Entreri's attacks encountered steel, the rest bit into the vampire's quickly deteriorating body. The assassin was chopping him up like a butcher.

With one last burst of strength, Alececarr pushed off the wall and rushed the human. Entreri calmly stepped aside and dropped into a crouch, dragging his saber across the vampire's torso, and cutting through the back of his knee with his dirk. Alececarr stumbled to the floor and turned quickly. He did not have the strength to rise, but brought the frost blade around for an attack. Entreri blocked the blade with one weapon and severed the arm with the other. The blade and the arm fell to the floor.

Alececarr tried to bring the dagger around, but he couldn't get that hand to work properly. He glanced down at his wrist and saw that all the tendons that controlled his fingers had been cut at some point before his charge. The dagger was lying on the floor back by the broken mirror. He hadn't even noticed when it had happened.

Defeated, the ancient vampire looked up at Entreri and laughed. The assassin held his dirk poised for his last strike but allowed himself a pause to analyze this unusual response to death. "You can not defeat me!"

Entreri begged to differ. Even if taking this vampires head did not turn him to dust, he could hack him into a dozen pieces and burn them in a blacksmith's fire or burry them miles apart from each other. He would kill him.

But that wasn't what Alececarr had said. "You will never defeat me!"

Entreri's mind went back to the scroll he had read concerning this vampire. The elves had been concerned that if they killed the body, the spirit might be released and roam free. They had been sending the body to the priests on the southern tip of this continent. Those priests probably no longer lived there.

What was Entreri to do?

He could cut off the legs and arms, box up the torso and head, burry it, and wait for a priest to rise up in the land powerful enough to kill the demon spirit. Likely that wouldn't happen for many years and possibly after Entreri had died. So he would have to leave instructions for. . .

"Ah, to hell with it." Entreri took Alececarr's head.

The body fell forward unceremoniously, and nothing happened for a few seconds. The assassin thought that nothing might continue to happen, but a small rushing sound started slowly, swirling a breeze around the room. Entreri suddenly wished he was somewhere else, but he was transfixed by the sight in front of him. The candle blew out, but there was a soft glow in the room, and the swirling air formed itself into a glowing image. The fearsome canine head of the demon materialized in the whirlwind over the body. It lashed out quickly at Entreri, and the human stumbled backwards, dropping his weapons. The image seamed to chuckle at this reaction and then disappeared, the rushing wind racing down the hallway. Entreri raced after it just in time to see the window at the end of the hall explode and the stormy night lit up with a fantastic display of lightening.

Then there was silence. Even the rain outside slowed to a drizzle and stopped. The silence was far more disturbing than the noise had been.

Entreri shook his head, trying not to think about what he might have just done. He moved into his office and lit another lamp. The room was empty save for his dagger and frost blade on the floor. There also appeared to be a small pile of dust near the door. Other than that, there was nothing.

* * *

One more to go . . .


	13. The Breakup

**Chapter 12  
**"The Breakup"

Artemis,

This is the last time I will write to you.

I'm not even sure what I should say. I realize now that  
I have done something to upset you. For that I am sorry,  
but I would like to know what it was I have done. My  
time with you was brief, but enjoyable none-the-less. I  
would like to have positive memories of our time together  
and should chance find us passing on the street, I would  
not like that meeting to be uncomfortable.

I have many emotions concerning us generated by the  
voices around me. Dominick, my father, yourself, my heart,  
and my head all have opinions about you and about how  
you have treated me and about how I have treated you.  
Would I be wrong to say that we have both erred in our  
handling of the situation?

I was playing both sides. I am sorry for that. I could not  
decide between you and Dominick so I tried to have both,  
and now I have neither. Dominick has not returned to me,  
and you will not return my letters. I was greedy, and I  
apologize.

But are you any less guilty? All I ask is a response of some  
sort. At most I would like to see you again, to hear from  
your own voice what I have done to offend you and if there  
is any chance of us continuing a relationship. At the least I  
would like a note saying that you don't want to see me again.

I fear I will not be at peace until this rift between us is ended.

Christine Toole

For the third morning in a row Entreri lowered a note from Christine and looked over his desk at his messenger. The look on the Sam's face told Entreri that the boy had read it, as he had read the previous two notes. Entreri wasn't mad. In fact, if the boy had not read it or any of the others he would have given them to him now. Entreri needed advice, and as odd as it might appear to go to a 12-year-old boy for advice with regard to women, Entreri knew it was his best option.

The assassin had not slept well. He usually had a feeling of closure after each job accomplished, but something about this adventure did not sit well with him. That Alececarr's spirit was free was an obvious issue, but that did not bother Entreri as much as it probably should. The spirit would likely inhabit something else or respond to the call of an evil priest, but someone else could deal with that when it happened. Entreri's job had been to rid this city of vampires, and he had done that.

So why did he feel a sense of incompletion?

He didn't have to look any further than the note in front of him. Christine was a loose end. She was the daughter of an important man and Entreri would do well not to burn any bridges with the Toole family. But what was he to do?

He looked again at Sam. The boy had been a messenger in the northern section of town for several years and had likely carried dozens of love letters and break up notes to and from his clients. He had experience in these types of relationships.

As Entreri looked at the boy, he realized the youth wasn't going to speak up on his own. He was too well trained for that. "Bring her a note saying-" Entreri started but didn't get very far.

"Sir, you can't do this through a letter. You need to go see her."

Entreri was afraid of that. "Why?"

"Women are sensitive. They don't take rejection well. You are going to break up with her, right?"

Entreri stared death at the boy.

"Of course you are. But why did you see her at all?"

Another stare.

"I'm sorry sir, none of my business." The boy paused, fighting with his own curiosity. Common sense won out, and he stopped asking questions. "Tell her you are not ready for a commitment. That one is really popular. Tell her it's not her; it's you. You need some more time and space to think things through."

Entreri nodded, understanding the hollow answers for what they were. And, not for the first time, he was happy he had always stayed clear of the courtship game. He imagined having to tell Pasha Basadoni, "It's not you; it's me. I'm just not ready for a commitment yet," before he walked out of the guild. Somehow, he didn't think it would go over too well.

* * *

Entreri arrived at Christine's house by late morning. He was greeted at the door by Thurston Toole. He was not smiling. "My daughter is upstairs."

Not a "Hello," or "Good morning." Entreri swallowed wondering if he should further muddy the waters by offering an excuse. "I have been busy," he said, trying to look sincere.

"Of course you were," Thurston replied, closing the door behind Entreri. His tone and face had not changed. And then the older man just walked away. Entreri wondered if he should say more, but what would it matter? He was going to go upstairs and officially breaking off his relationship with the man's only daughter. He had spent all morning trying to think of a good reason and hadn't been successful; he wasn't going to come up with anything in the next 30 seconds.

As Entreri slowly climbed the stairs to his right, he wondered if he shouldn't maybe string this relationship out a while longer. He could play his cards so that she would break up with him. He could be rude and obnoxious and . . .

Entreri didn't want to play games. He didn't have time to play games. He was trying to run a business – two businesses. But if his relationship with Thurston deteriorated, it could severely jeopardize his financial future.

Entreri stopped his train of thought at the top of the stairs. He had never been to Christine's room before. He was hoping it would be obvious. It was. The deadly assassin stopped in front of a door marked with decorative woodwork spelling out the woman's name. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"Who is it?"

"It is Artemis. I came to talk."

To say the door opened quickly would be an understatement. Entreri actually jumped a bit.

The look on Christine's face went through a telling range of emotion. First there was elation at seeing him again, then frustration at their current situation, then anger when she remembered that she was blaming him.

"Well?"

Well, what, Entreri thought. Were they to have this discussion in the hallway? "Can I come in?"

She opened the door wider and allowed her guest to enter. The room was not neat. There were clothes on the floor, the bed was not made, papers were scattered about, and crumpled tissues lay about the floor. The door to the balcony faced east, but the drapes were pulled, not letting the sun shine any light into the room, making it very gloomy.

Entreri turned to face Christine as she closed the door. She was wearing a heavy robe, closed at the waist with a tie. Her hair was not done and her makeup had not been removed after the last time she had worn it and was smudged all across her cheeks. She had been crying a lot.

"I'm sorry I didn't-"

"Is there someone else?" Christine interrupted, asking the question that had been bugging her for days.

"No, there's no one el-"

"Then why? Why can't we be together?"

If you'd let me finish a sentence, Entreri thought, then I'd tell y-

"I can't stop thinking about you. We were meant to be together. I can feel it."

"We have only known each other for a few days," Entreri replied, holding his breath, waiting to be interrupted. "You can't possibly know after onl-"

"Oh but I do." She walked toward him quickly, almost tall enough to look him straight in the eye. "I know it in my heart."

Entreri could not hold her gaze and turned away, walking toward the curtains. "You are confused," he said. "You have been through a traumatic time and are not thinking straight." He pulled on the cord and opened the curtains. The sun had risen toward the center of the sky and lit up only about three feet in front of the paned double doors. "You need to get out. You can't stay cooped in this room trying to figure things out. You need to live, meet new people, experience things."

"But what if I've already found what I want?"

Entreri heard her walking closer and he turned around to face her. "There are other men in this city. At the party when we met there were doze-"

"And none of them paid me any notice," she said. "None of them but you . . . and . . ." now she turned away, staring off into a corner of the room.

"Dominick was bad for me," she almost whispered. "I can see that now. But you," she turned to face him again, "you are different. There is nothing wrong with you." A look crossed her face suddenly as if she was having a thought for the first time. "Is it me? Is there something wrong with me?"

"No," Entreri said quickly. "It's not you," Entreri winced suddenly, realizing the wisdom of a 12-year-old boy. "It's not you; it's me," he said soothingly.

"Then what is it?" she demanded. "What is so terrible about you that is keeping us apart? What are you hiding from me?"

Now Entreri took his turn to look away. What was wrong with him? What could he tell her? As his mined raced, his eyes looked out through the doors to the balcony. On the railing he saw mud. They were footprints, likely left by Dominick during his last visit to this room. A thought struck him then: Dominick came in through the balcony; Entreri used the front door.

There was a time when Entreri had used the balcony or window or chimney or anything to hide his entrance. Now he used the front door. Now he was a member of society. He no longer lived by the sword, or at least he had no desire to. He was a businessman now. He had accepted that challenge hesitantly but had been very successful. Should he take up the challenge of starting a relationship? Should he officially become a member of society, someone who is welcomed in the front door instead of sneaking in the back window?

Entreri enjoyed his business ventures. He found a strange pleasure in balancing his accounts at the end of each month and showing that he had earned a profit. He took pleasure in watching his competitors scrambling to keep up with him. He was happy with it. Would he find pleasure in starting a relationship? Would it make him happy?

"You're not happy are you?" Christine asked to his back. "You live alone. You criticize me for not getting out and living, but what have you done? You probably just sit in your office counting your money. Well I did look outside of my room, and I found someone. I found you. I see you clearly. Do you see me?"

Entreri heard a muffled sound behind him and knew what he would see when he turned around. Entreri's eyes started on the floor where her robe lay bunched up around her bare feet. His gaze went up her body slowly. She was wearing a slip, thin and shiny. It was sleeveless with two thin straps over the shoulder. The bottom ended many inches above her knee, and a slit ran up either side to the top of her hips. She took a few steps toward him, the movement of her every curve clearly visible.

"Have you seen me yet? Have you bothered to really look? What do you see, Artemis? Could I make you happy?"

Entreri was drawn to her. His eyes moved over her body as they had never moved before. Not since he was a young teenager, trying to sneak a peak into Pasha Basadoni's harem had he so desired to see beneath a woman's clothes. But why now? Why her? Christine was beautiful, no doubt, but no more so than many other women he had met. Sharlotta had been more sensual for sure, lithe yet shapely, but her personality had revolted him in ways that her body could never account for. Catti-brie had been young and vibrant with a muscular body that came from being raised with dwarves. But with all the time he had kept her as prisoner while hunting for Regis, he had never once thought of taking advantage of her.

So why now? Why this burning desire? Entreri's confusion won over his hormones and he walked off at an angle, his eyes avoiding the women as he passed.

"There is something wrong with me?" she sounded skeptical. "Or is that what is wrong with you? Are you queer?"

Entreri stopped suddenly, painful memories of his youth racing through his mind. "No," he said calmly, "never that."

"Then it is me," she reasoned. "Are my hips too big?"

Entreri was staring at the wall wondering how to get out of this.

"Am I too tall? Am I too young? Are my breasts too big?"

"It's not," Entreri turned and his voice caught in his throat. From her last question, she was holding herself, pushing her cleavage up and almost out of the top of her slip. Entreri cleared his throat. "It's definitely not you."

Christine let go over herself suddenly, which was almost just as alluring. She held her hands out wide. "Well if it is not me, and if it is not you, then who is it? Who is keeping us apart?"

The answer struck Entreri like a lightning bolt. "Dominick."

Christine frowned sincerely. "No, he is gone. He is no longer between us."

Entreri's mind was racing, trying to work through the logical pattern. "He was here last night."

"What?" Christine replied. "No, he wasn't. I've told you. I haven't seen him for two days. He said . . ." her voice trailed off as she soaked in the stare from Entreri.

The footprint on the balcony should have been washed off during the torrential downpour last night. The only way for it to exist was if it had been made after the rain had stopped. Entreri didn't bother trying to explain his logic to the women, he just fixed her with a gaze, letting her know that he would accept nothing less than the truth.

She relented. "He was here, but only for a short while. He told me for certain he was leaving town and that I would never see him again."

"He left you with something, didn't he?"

Christine shook her head. "No, he didn't give me anything."

Entreri struck like a snake, taking three quick steps toward her and slapping her hard across the face. "Don't lie to me!"

Christine's face spun away, blood flying from a torn lip. Her head came back quickly with a feral snarl. All beauty was gone from her face now. She stared back at Entreri with red eyes through a furrowed brow. Her tongue snaked out between her elongated incisors to sensually lick the blood from her lip.

"He might have left me with something," she replied with a slight lisp, not yet comfortable talking with a mouth full of teeth. "A wonderful gift."

Before Entreri could figure out what to do with regard to this new revelation, Christine grabbed his arms and pulled him close. "We could be together forever, Artemis. You and I could run this town. We could do whatever we wanted. You could not believe the power I feel."

"It is not a gift," he replied sternly, though her open mouth was only inches from his face. "It is a curse."

"It is eternal life," she argued.

"Which is the biggest lie perpetrated by your kind. It might be eternal, but it is no life. You are dead. There is no beating heart in your chest."

"How do you know?" she asked slyly, dropping her right hand to grab Entreri's wrist. "Have you checked?" She brought his hand up to her chest and placed it directly over her sternum, moving it slowly side to side. "Do you feel anything now?"

Entreri looked her straight in the eyes, his stare sending a chill down Christine's already cold body. "You do not arouse me."

She threw his hand down and grabbed his shoulders. "I will!" Christine pulled him even closer, her fangs aimed at his neck. Entreri slammed his boot down on her bare toes. Christine cried out and Entreri easily freed himself from her grasp. He took a few steps back, instinctively dropping his hand to his belt. Of course there was no weapon there.

"You want to play rough?" Christine asked. "We can play rough." She stepped toward him, throwing punches and kicks. It wasn't the uncoordinated flailings of an armature, but the strikes were measured and timed effectively, sending Entreri on the move, dodging and ducking out of the way. She had obviously taken some hand-to-hand self-defense classes at her university. It wasn't that she was an expert, but she was ten times more disciplined than Dominick had been.

Entreri ducked under a sweeping high kick, and came up with his fist leading. Christine blocked the jab, not knowing that the first attack was always a diversion for the second. His other fist slammed into her ribs. She winced, but not much.

During the block of the first attack, Christine had grabbed hold of Entreri's wrist. She hoisted him back to her, and before he could attack, she flung him across the room. Entreri braced for impact just before he smashed into the bedpost. The post snapped under his weight, and he rolled onto the mattress. Entreri had to treat this fight seriously or her strength would defeat him.

He sat up on the bed, grabbing at the broken wooden post, but the ends were far too blunt to use as a stake. Christine was in front of him quickly, punching and clawing at his face. Entreri waved the broken post as a club, but she accepted the blunt blows to her body, trading them for strikes of her own.

Entreri dropped the post suddenly and grabbed her around the waist lifting her into the air and tossing her over his head as he leaned back on the bed. She hit the wall on the other side of the bed hard, but didn't seem phased. Entreri got up quickly, turning to look at her, but she stayed reclined on the bed, lying on her side. "You want to play on the bed now?" The fingers of her right hand caressed her leg, slowly pulling the slit of her gown well past her hip.

"I don't play well with others," Entreri replied, hooking his toe under the bedpost and tossing it up to his hand. He swung down on her prone form, but she was ready, bringing her forearm up to block the strike. At least she thought she was ready. The skilled fighter easily twirled the post around the block and struck her in the forehead.

Christine shrieked and sprang off the bed like a cat, clinging to Entreri's upper body, pulling him back toward the bed while clawing at his clothes. Behind him, Entreri heard the door to the bedroom burst open. Thurston, who had been eavesdropping outside the room, could stand the curious noises from within no longer.

"What's going on in here?"

Though Thurston asked the question, he didn't really feel like he needed an answer. He saw all he needed. Entreri was wrestling with his scantily clad daughter on her bed. She was desperately trying to get him off, but he was relentless.

Though Entreri had heard the door open and the question that followed, responding to the father was not on the top of his priorities list as Christine was trying to gouge out his eyes. His priorities quickly changed as he felt strong hands grab him from behind and haul him off the bed and up against the wall next to the balcony doors.

"I'm going to pound you to an inch of your life before I hand you over to the city guards!"

It was too much of a warning for someone like Entreri, and as the fist came in, the assassin easily dodged his head to the side. Thurston grimaced as his fist hit the wall, but in his enraged state it was going to take more than that to slow him down. He punched and elbowed the smaller man as he kept him pinned against the wall. Entreri deflected the blows, not wanting to strike back at the man. He knew Thurston would eventually figure things out, hopefully sooner that than later.

It was sooner.

"Daddy has come to play too," a melodic voice came from behind the older man.

Entreri allowed Thurston to get a strangle hold on him, pinning him tight against the wall with one hand as he turned to look at his daughter. The neck hold slackened quite quickly. "Christine, darling, what happened to your face?"

"Don't worry, Daddy," she said with a sly grin on her lips. "I feel great. Would you like to see?" She gripped her father by front of his shirt and yanked him away from Entreri, shoving him back across the room. She wasn't quite strong enough to lift her father into the air from that angle, but her shove was more than sufficient to send him crashing into the nightstand beside the bed.

She turned to look at her father scrambling for his footing and sanity. His daughter had just thrown him across the room. "What do you think, Daddy? Your little girl is all grown up. I'm powerful, just like you told me I'd be. If you only knew how powerful."

Her attention was completely on her father now, and Entreri noticed with interest that she stood only a few feet away from the sunlit floor in front of the balcony. He moved fast, coming off the wall and grabbing the young woman around her waist. He meant to toss her into the light, but she was too fast, elbowing the assassin in the face, causing him to drop her just outside of the light. As Entreri struggled to shake the cobwebs from his brain, Christine delivered a chest-high kick, sending the assassin flying through the balcony doors. He scrambled for his footing, slipped on a piece of broken glass, hit the railing, and flipped over the edge.

"You killed him!" Thurston cried. Though they were only on the second floor, there was a 30-foot drop to a stone patio below.

"Perhaps," said as she sauntered up to her father. "You haven't told me what you think of your transformed daughter?"

Thurston pushed himself away from the nightstand and took a few steps forward. "You are scaring me, honey. I think you need help."

Christine shoved him suddenly, sending him to his back and knocking the wind out of him. "Help? No, you are the one in need of help." Before he could get up, she sat on his stomach. "You are going to need a lot of help."

Help was coming.

Entreri hung onto the lower portion of the balcony counting to five. Thurston was a great distraction, but he needed to make sure that Christine thought Entreri was gone. After five seconds had passed, he pulled himself up the side of the balcony and over the railing. He saw Christine sitting on her father, wrestling with him, and trying to get at his neck. Entreri needed to hurry. He ran to the vanity where a dress had been tossed to conceal a mirror. He grabbed the mirror and ran back to the balcony.

The mirror was three feet tall and cast a large oval of light back into the room – right onto Christine's back. The young vampire stopped wrestling with her father as her body began to smoke and burn. The sight from behind was ugly, but Entreri imagined it was even worse from the other angle.

Thurston recoiled in horror from his daughter as she rose to her knees and burst into flames. Her face was a mask of pain and fear as she cried out, unsure what was going on. She waved her arms about as her body burned faster than an oil soaked log. It lasted five horrifying seconds, and then Christine collapsed into a pile of charred ashes on her fathers face and chest.

"No! No! It can't be!" Thurston wailed. "She can't be gone!"

Entreri walked into the room and leaned the mirror up against the wall. As he approached the grieving man, he tried to think of what to say. "Sorry," seemed so inadequate and disingenuous as the assassin did not feel responsible for what had happened, other than saving the man's life from his own daughter. Entreri stood soberly over the man as tears streamed down his face, his voice choking on the ashen remains of his only child who had burned into nothing right on top of him.

"I'm-" Entreri started.

"Get out! Just get out!"

Entreri did as he was told.

* * *

Outside the Toole house, floating down the Garril River was the first of that day's ships. It had been built over the winter and loaded with cargo the previous week. Now it had just finished its trip down through the locks and was on its way to points south. It was loaded with leather, cotton, tapestries, and other such goods in a variety of stages, some raw material, others finished goods.

It did not take much of a crew to float a ship down the river. They had a rotating navigator and a captain. There were a few others responsible for the financial aspect of the voyage once they got ready to sell, but the whole crew only totaled six – six plus a stow-away.

Dominick huddled in the corner of the hold, hidden between bags of cotton and stacks of fabric. He felt very weak. He had just turned Christine the previous night and had fed off of two more security guards before hiding in this ship, but he still felt very weak. He felt weak because he felt alone. The vampire had gotten drunk two nights ago, and when he had woken up, it was already day, and he had to spend his time in the tavern basement, not able to go back home in the sunlight.

After the storm had ended, Dominick had made his way back to the Bloody Mary to find out it had been destroyed. He was alone. There was no army to back him, and if the city was hunting and destroying his kin, then he did not feel safe. Dominick had turned Christine as a sort of parting gift, and then fled town.

Entreri had cost him the hunt for Christine, and he had probably been the one to destroy his fellow vampires. He hoped the assassin was the exception, rather than the rule. The south would be easier.

* * *

When Thurston Toole walked into The Dragon's Lair that evening, he was accompanied by the same two body guards that had made the trip with him over a week ago when the rich man had invited Entreri to a party. From the look on the old man's face, it did not appear he was going to extend such an invitation this time.

Thurston stopped right in front of Entreri's table, his two body guards flanking him on either side, their hands on their swords. "Can you explain yourself?"

Entreri chewed and swallowed the piece of meat he had just put in his mouth, giving him time to compose an answer. "I am sorry about your daughter. What happened was not my intention."

"And what, exactly, was your intention?"

"I wished to rid the city of vampires."

The name did not confuse Thurston in the slightest. Entreri guessed that he had probably gone to John to get an explanation and hopefully get Entreri arrested. The fact that the city guard was not here with this enraged father meant that John had defended the assassin. Either that or the captain realized trying to arrest him would be a futile effort.

"So you used my daughter as bait."

"I never dangled Christine in front of the enemy, the way you would dangle a worm in front of a fish. She did that herself. She involved her self with a vampire before I began to court her. If anything, I was trying to protect her from what happened."

"Protect her? Is that why you ignored her pleas to you? I read the notes that left my house, and I know that she asked for your presence several times before you replied; only you replied too late. You used her and then discarded her."

"I was saving the city!" Entreri slammed his hands on the table and stood up.

The guards behind Thurston tensed, but their boss leaned in over the table, blocking any angle they might have had. "Only at the expense of my daughter! You were reckless and irresponsible."

"In war, people die. I cannot stop that. What I can and did do was to limit that loss of life as much as possible. I lost men in this fight too."

"Oh, don't try and compare your worthless cretins to my daughter. The north section could stand to lose a few more drunks. Yes, men die in war, but not little girls!"

"She was not your little girl," Entreri replied. "She was an adult who made her own decisions and paid for them. If I had not stepped into her life, she would have died regardless, and she would have killed you as well."

Thurston had no immediate response to that and the tension that had been building settled down a notch. "Don't ever try to justify your actions to me by hypothesizing what could have happened." He stood up straight now and backed a step away from the table.

"You are not welcome near my house ever again. In fact, I will use my influence to make sure you are not welcomed anywhere in the southern section of town. I would prefer if you would ride one of your ships south and never set foot in this town again. But if you insist on staying, I will not make it easy for you." With that, the lonely man turned and walked out.

Entreri paused over his half eaten meal, considering this change of events. He had a new rival. Was that ever going to change? No matter what he did, he could not escape making adversaries. Whether it was Drizzt, Elliorn, or now Thurston, he kept creating enemies no matter what he did. Entreri shrugged his shoulders. "What's the point of competition," he mumbled to himself, "if you don't have any competitors." With that thought, he turned back to is plate and continued eating.

The End

* * *

Let the hate mail flow. I'm sorry about Christine, but I felt Entreri needed a different kind of rival for future stories. I mean there is no point in giving him a sparring partner like Drizzt, because he is too good, so I need to challenge him in different areas.

Well, now I don't know what I am going to do. I have more stories in my head (all authors always do) but I think I want to try something original. I know I keep saying that, but I think I might actually do it this time. My life is too hectic to be able to write on a schedule anymore, so it would be better to start something that people won't have to wait for. We'll see. I'll probably end up writing more fanfiction, but I can at least pretend like I'm going to do something original.

Dave


End file.
